So Many Demons, So Little Time
by supernaturaldh
Summary: Dean made the deal to save Sam. Sam struggles to save his brother. My own little compact, complete supernatural saga. Note: I wrote this last year, long before the Season 3 STUCK WITH ME RU ROUND 10 SENSUE AWARDS
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks to everyone for reading my stories. This is a repost of So Many Demons, So little Time. RUNNER UP ROUND 10 SENSUE FAN FICTION AWARDS!! Category "Stuck with You" – supernaturaldh**

On the 3rd day after the gates of hell opened, Dean Winchester glared through the darkness to the road. The headlights of the car caused a large white glow on the road, the yellow lines of the median whizzing by quickly. His chin was lazily propped up on his left hand, his arm bent at the elbow bow resting on the driver side door, his other hand holding steady on the steering wheel. Glancing down at his watch he noticed the time was 3:47 a.m. He had been driving for 12 hours straight. He glanced quickly over to the passenger seat where he saw his brother, Sam, head sagging on the window, arms curled into his stomach, long legs crammed up against the glove box, breath causing steam on the window. He had been keeping Dean company but and fell asleep about 2 hours back, just outside of Kansas City. So, Dean was on his own, peering out into the night, hearing only the empty sound of nothing as he drove along.

He could turn on the radio, but knew it would only wake up his brother, and lord knows when he would get to sleep again. So, he just sat in silence letting the wind whistle around the car, the steady hum of the engine his only company. He could stop and find a motel, check in and drag Sammy to the bed, but what was the point? He couldn't sleep if he wanted to, he was too tense, and too many thoughts were rushing through his head. So, on he drove, down the highway, past the little towns, the endless road, lost in the darkness that encased him.

He remembered clearly the meeting he had with the crossroad demon, three days before, the conversation running through his mind. He really thought she would let him live longer than one year. One year of his life for his brother back from the dead, somehow, the deal did not seem fair now that he was thinking about it. He knew it at the time, but he had taken it, knowing full well it was the only way he was getting his brother back. Shuffling slightly in the seat, he glanced over at Sam who was still sleeping peacefully; he guessed dying and coming back to life took a lot out of a guy. So, he let Sam sleep on, mulling in his own thoughts while he continued driving into the night.

As he recalled the demon said, "One year, and then I will come for you". The words were echoing around in his head and lying on his thoughts. Okay, let's think about this in a different perspective Dean told himself, that would be 365 days, of which he had already used 3 days. So, looking at the bright side, he had 362 days left.

When the gates of hell had opened up three days back, in Wyoming, it had been ugly, the demons screaming out into the night, into the unknowing world of the living. They had estimated that at least 200 demons had escaped from hell, now roaming the earth to terrorize the living causing death and destruction where they went. Only 200 demons, Dean laughed to himself, which means I kill one demon a day for 200 days, and then I still have 165 days left to do what I want. Sounds like a plan he grinned to himself.

Sam shifted in the seat beside Dean and turned to face him. He looked so young, so much like the innocent child he used to be, before…before life got so hard. Before their Mom died, before their Dad died, before Sam's girlfriend died, before Sam died and the demon brought him back, before the deal, before hells gate, and before the demons were released. "Jesus", Dean thought, they did always have a hard time of it, what did they ever do to deserve this?

All Dean could remember was that he always wanted a family, a Mom, a Dad, a brother, a normal life. While he may have gotten it, it was all lost in a battle with evil that he never asked to be involved in. When his mother had died, pinned to the ceiling of their happy home in Lancaster, Kansas, he was four years old, just an innocent; unaware of the evil that was in the dark. The evil that his father had hunted to avenge his mother until the day he died. Sam and Dean had been pulled into this battle as children, growing up in it, living it every day. It was all they knew, all their Dad had let them know. Sam had tried to escape it, running away from home to go to college, but in the end, the evil had followed him and taken the life of his girlfriend the same way it took his mom.

Dean eyes watered and he ran a weary hand across them to wipe away any residue of tears. He was not going to let his future, or lack there of affect his present. He could not escape his life, his destiny, there was no running away. Sam had figured that out, and so had he. They would overcome and adapt, that's just what they did.

Sam shivered in his sleep and Dean turned the heat on, turning the vents to face his brother. Sam continued to sleep, obvious to the world.

On the seventh day after the gates of hell opened Dean and Sam found the first demon to hunt. Dean laughed as they exorcised the bastard that was living inside a 10 year old girl.

"One down, a hundred and ninety nine to go; count down, day 358 in the life of Dean Winchester", Dean yelled loudly clapping his hands together.

"Sam", he said as they walked down the gravel driveway, back to the Impala, "We need to kill at least two demons a day, I want this done, were burning daylight".

Sam just rolled his eyes and looked at his brother. "Dean, you got to find them to kill them". He dropped the exorcism book in the trunk with the candles and rosary.

"I just want them all gone, before…you know". Dean leaned back on the car trunk and looked at Sam.

"Dean, we are going to stop the deal, we'll find away. Please stop counting days off, it is driving me nuts, all the jokes about it, it's just not normal Dean".

"Have I ever been normal Sam", Dean snickered as he looked over at his brother.

"Well, that may be true, but I can't take it, so please stop". Dean nodded and touched his brother gently on the arm.

"Okay, Sam, I'll stop". Dean turned to go to the driver's side of the car. He knew in his heart he had just lied to his brother. He could not stop. It was his life, his days to count, and he would keep doing it, silently, but none the less, he would know what day it was and how may days he had left.


	2. Chapter 2

On the 56th day, of the last year, of Dean Winchesters life, the brothers marked kill number 50 in the hunt for all the wicked demons that had escaped from hell's gate. They had driven to Huntsville, Alabama looking for a zombie that was scaring the crap out of people all over town. While it would have only been number 49, they lucked out and found two zombies, not one. How lucky was that, they had laughed together as they headed back to the motel for a beer after the hunt. Dean was happy, two demons in one day, now that was more like it.

Sam continued to evade sleep at every break they had from hunting. It worried Dean that Sam was putting all his effort into saving him, scouring the internet, researching in libraries, talking to voodoo priests, hunters, supernatural experts in hopes of breaking the deal Dean had made. It concerned Dean that he was overextending himself and worrying enough for the both of them. The frailness of his frame, the shadows under his eyes making him looked haggard and older than his 23 years.

"Sam", Dean said as he sat on the bed opposite of him in the ratty motel they were staying in on day 78 of Dean's silent countdown in the last year of his life.

"Yea", Sam said, not glancing up from the laptop.

"You have to stop this".

"Stop what?" Sam glared over the top of the laptop at his brother, fingers speeding quickly over the keyboard.

"Sam, you know what I am talking about, the continual searching, looking, calling, asking, it is not helping either of us, and it is hurting you". Deans fisted his hands at his sides as he looked caringly over at his brother.

"No, Dean, I won't". Sam continued typing as he looked up at Dean with a determined look in his eyes.

"At least take a break once in a while, enjoy our time together".

Sam looked at Dean and smiled a small smile.

"I can do that, but I might miss the opportunity to figure this out, to stop it… all because I am sitting on my ass having a beer!"

Dean laughed, it was a good laugh one that was contagious, and Sam laughed too. They both nodded at each other and Dean leaned back on the headboard grabbing the remote, and flicking on the TV. Sam looked back down at the keyboard, and continued with his search, a small grin on his face.

Day 100, of the last year of Dean's life, they realized they did not have to kill all the demons themselves, they were not alone in their efforts; there were other hunters helping, hunting, killing evil that walked the earth. They ran into three of them hunting a banshee that had come back from the depths of hell and was feeding on innocents in a small town in Arkansas. They went there to find it and kill it themselves; much to their surprise; the hunters had beaten them to it. When they arrived, they found them at the local hunter hang out having a beer, shooting pool, and talking about how they had chased the son of a bitch down, and sent it straight back to hell. This made Dean feel better. He and Sam smiled at each other.

"Well at least we aren't in this alone". Sam said as he stepped out of the bar into the cool evening air walking slowly back to the Impala.

"I never was, Sam". Dean winked back at Sam and opened the driver's door settling quickly into the car.

Sam's eyes teared up, and he quickly turned his head away and slammed the passenger door closed so he could look out the window and away from Dean.

That night Sam tried to a focus, clear his mind and rethink the deal, again, figure out how to get Dean free of it. He was so tired. His body ached from lack of sleep, from fatigue, from the never ending search he was on. He stood in the tiny shower in the bathroom of their dinky motel and let the hot shower pound his muscles, numbing his body. He had hashed it all over a thousand times, exhausted all his contacts, searched the internet till his fingers and hands hurt from the keyboard. Still he had nothing.

Sam stepped out the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist; taking his hand, he wiped the steam off the mirror. Looking at his face, he did not recognize the person he was; he looked so drawn, pale. For a second dizziness assaulted him and he leaned heavily on the sink for support.

"Sam", he heard from the other side of the door, "you takin all night in there or what?" Dean said leaning into the doorframe to listen for Sam, slamming his hand down on the door.

"N…no, I...I'll be right out", Sam said shakily. He took a deep breath to clear his mind, slipped on his beat up t-shirt, boxers, and pajama pants and then opened the bathroom door.

Dean watched Sam walk over to his bed a plop down heavily.

"You don't look fine", he said with a slight shake of his head.

Sam lay down across the bed, his right arm coming up over his eyes.

"Sam, you have to stop this, you have to take care of yourself. I can't keep watching you do this to yourself". Dean said in a quiet voice as he sat down on the bed beside Sam.

Sam lay silently for several minutes and then in a low whisper, that Dean could barely hear, he said, "I need you…we need each other".

Dean lowered his eyes to look in Sam's face as he removed his arm, letting the tears well up in his eyes.

"All my plans depend on you… depend on your being here. I can't stop, I can't just let this go, I love you and that's all I know". Tears rolled down Sam's cheeks and trickled to the bedspread.

"Com'er kiddo". Dean said as he reached over and pulled Sam up into a hug.

Dean didn't know how long they sat like that, arms intertwined, hearts aching, holding tightly to each other. Eventually, he scooted them both down on the bed and pulled a blanket up over them, Sam already sleeping, hanging onto Dean like a lifeline.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, the sun came gleaming through the motel window shining right into Dean's face. He woke slowly, feeling warm, happy and rested. Then he remembered this is the start of day 101 of his life. He was still lying on the bed, holding his brother. As he glanced down at his sleeping form, he ran his hands slowly through his brother's hair, just as he did when he was a child. What was wrong with him?, he thought, he guessed knowing you had 264 days left to live made a guy, more chick flicky… go figure….. Well, that was just wonderful, he thought, and pulled the blanket up closer around his brother.

Sam felt the blanket being pulled up and tucked under his chin and then warm fingers flowing through his long hair, caressing his face; he knew who it was, and he knew why they did it. He had felt this comforting motion when he was younger. It was Dean's way to feel close to his brother, but, ever since Sam had hit puberty, this motion had only been done in secret, and only when Dean did not know Sam was awake. So, Sam lay still, his eyes closed, pretending to be a sleep. Sam thought he must be in really bad shape if Dean was doing this comforting childhood motion. The worst part, he wanted Dean doing it, comforting him, holding him, making this nightmare go away, like all the other nightmares before it.

Eventually, Sam let his eyes flutter open and looked lazily up at his brother. Dean's hand quickly dropped to the top of the bedspread away from Sam's hair.

"Hey kiddo", Dean smiled at his brother, without moving from his comforting position, lying on his side, his arm lying across the top of his brothers blanket, curled in as close to him as he could get.

"Hey ….Dean, I…I... feel better".

"Well good, it's amazing what a good night's sleep will do for you". Dean grinned as he pulled slowly away from his brother and sat up on the side of the bed.

"Dean, I'm s…sorry for last night." Sam said as he turned and lay lazily back on the bed.

"Sam", Dean laid a hand on Sam's and let his thumb caress the top of his brothers hand,

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam, you're my little brother….my family…. and this is hard".

Sam's mouth quirked up into a small grin, "Guess we had a chick flick moment, huh?"

"Whatever Sam, whatever it takes to get us through this, to get you through this, is what I intend to do."

Sam pulled the blanket off and sat up on the bed next to Dean. "Thanks" he said in a small whisper. Dean smiled at his brother as Sam stood, grabbed his clothes out of his duffle bag, and went to take his shower. Another day began, another day in the short life of his brother, another day for Sam to figure out how to save him.

Once Sam was in the shower, and Dean heard the water running full force, he glanced down at the floor, running his hand through his hair, and sighed.

They drove into the town of Old Willow Lake, Minnesota the following afternoon. The 16 hour drive in the car had been cold and long. They were here after a water wraith, another monster that had escaped form the gates of hell, and landed here to kill and terrorize the people up on the lake. Although, Sam and Dean had dealt with a water wraith before, they knew the routine, they both seamed drained at this point, not really concentrating on the job. They had barely spoken in the car on the drive up. Both caught up in their own thoughts.

It was 9:45 p.m. when they finally found the Cabins in the Wood Motel at Old Willow Lake. They had located the motel during their research and it was where the last victim had stayed, hoping that this connection might help them to learn more about the wraith and eliminate it quickly. The vacancy sign was flashing, missing the letters V A C at the beginning.

"ANCY", Dean said out loud, "well, that sums up my feelings".

Sam snickered and looked over at Dean, "Me too, dude, we must just be tired".

"I'm getting a room, you get the bags out", Dean threw the car keys over to Sam in the passenger seat and opened his door to head to the registration office. Sam nodded and reached up to grab the keys.

They quickly changed for bed and were in their usual spots and sound asleep within minutes of arriving.

Dean heard rustling and moaning from the bed next to him, he turned to look at the clock, it was 3:15 a.m. He glanced over at his brother, he seemed to be asleep, but he was now groaning. Oh God, Dean thought, was this a nightmare, a vision? Sam had not had a vision or nightmare since they found and killed the demon; he had hoped that their time with this freaky brother stuff was over. Dean quickly jumped from his bed, in a sleepy stupor and went to sit on the edge of Sam's bed.

"Sam, Sam…Sammy", he grabbed his brothers shoulders and lightly gave him a shake. Sam pulled away, twisting and turning in his bed, sweat standing on his forehead, his eyelids darting back and forth.

"Dean ...help m...me …no…air...…" Sam said, his eyes filling with tears that rolled down his cheeks from behind his closed eyes. He began gasping for air and slowly the thrashing began to slow as he struggled to get it in his lungs.

Dean grabbed Sam up hard and shook him. "Sam, wake up", Dean yelled frantically in his ear.

Sam's eyes flew open, breath heaving into his body as he began to shake. Dean quickly lifted his brother to a sitting position and moved behind him on the bed, leaning him into his lap. Placing both arms around him to calm him down, Dean chanted over and over, "Breath …Sam… in and out, in…out, breath with me, in … out". Sam slowly began to calm down, his head lolling to the side and leaning on Dean's shoulder, the shaking subsiding.

"De...Dean…I...I. saw…"

"Don't try to talk now Sam", Dean said as he brushed his hand across his brothers sweat glazed brow.

"Shhhh, just take a moment and catch your breath, in…out…that's it".

Sam slumped into Dean resting totally on his chest. They sat like that for a few minutes as Sam's mind cleared, and he began to breathe easier, become more coherent.

"Sam, what was that", Dean asked as he laid Sam back against the headboard and stood up beside the bed to look at him.

"I had a vision, a nightmare….. It was me, I was falling into this oblivion, I couldn't breathe, or grab hold of anything, and I was just dropping. I couldn't breath, I couldn't breath….it was as if the air around me we closing in on me like a wall".

"Anything else?" Dean leaned back down to look Sam in the face. To check his eyes, and make sure he was okay.

"Personal space dude", Sam whispered, and Dean stood back up. "I don't remember anything else, just so dark….no air" Sam looked at Dean and shifted on the bed.

"I thought we were done with this vision, nightmare stuff… it's been so long. I had hoped that killing the demon had stopped …." Dean trailed off; fear gripping at his stomach and making him fill like he'd been punched.

"Dean, when I was in Cold Oak and the demon came to me in my dream, he showed me when Mom died, he took me there in my mind, and I saw it all" Sam heaved out breath quickening, voice quivering. "I saw him, he was standing over me, and, and…."

"And what Sam". Dean laid his hand on Sam's arm. "Just say it".

"I saw him drip blood in my mouth, it was his blood, and not Mom's dripping on my face".

Sam's face went pale, and Dean gripped his arm tighter.

"So…so, I have demon blood in me". Sam said glancing up at Dean with a fearful look in his eyes.

"That was long time ago Sam…"

"But it could be why I have visions, nightmares and why I am still having them. Ava said …she said that she had more abilities then just visions, so did Andy, and we have both seen that I do, I could, if I wanted….maybe, it was not the demon, but his blood that gives me my 'special' talents".

Dean quirked up his left eyebrow and looked at Sam. "Interesting take on it, but I don't know. Don't read too much into something that happened a long time ago, Sam."

With that Dean stood to go back to his bed, his mind racing over the revelation that Sam had just made. No more sleep for him tonight, he thought.

"Sam, go back to sleep, get some rest, we can talk more tomorrow". Dean pulled the covers up over his shoulders and lay on his side glaring at the wall. He knew by the sounds Sam was making, he wasn't asleep either.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

The following morning they did not talk about Sam's revalation, if fact, they acted as if the conversation had not happened at all. The fear for Sam gripped Deans chest, now he not only had to worry about how many days he had left, but Sam, his visions, his nightmares, the demons blood. So, he sat in the small diner with Sam, trying to act like their life was normal. What a joke, he thought, how could he do that… there life was far from anything resembling normal.

Sam pushed the eggs around on his plate, twirling the yellow yokes in his fork. He was dragging, tired again. Always with the tired….Lord, he was tired of being tired. He had not went back to sleep after his 'little' heart to heart with his brother, and he could tell by looking at Dean slouching in the booth opposite of him, that he had not either. He was angry with himself. Now, he had burdened Dean with his baggage, something he had not wanted to do. Dean did not need to be worrying about Sam and all his crap, he needed to be living his life to the fullest, laughing, drinking beer, meeting women, getting laid. Sam could just smack himself for letting the preverbal cat out of the bag. He could have kept the demon and blood thingy to himself, but no, not ole 'got to spill my guts out Winchester'. He glanced across the table to see Dean staring at him.

"You ready to go, Sam? Dean asked as he scooted out of the booth and grabbed the ticket to pay.

Sam slid out and followed Dean to the register and out to the car.

Looking out at the lake, the water glimmering in the mid-day sun, Sam thought, "How could anything this beautiful be the home of an ugly water wraith. Dean was standing next to Sam at the boat dock talking to one of the workers who had been on the dock the last time the wraith made an appearance.

"So, thanks a lot for meeting us here. I know the dock is closed, but we needed to see what exactly happened, Mr. Peterman, it is Joe Peterman, right?" Dean said as he smiled at the man in front of him.

"Yea, Joe… I don't understand what happened here, or what has been happening. It is just strange. I was standing on the dock and my coworker Glen Davenport was over there", Joe pointed toward on of the boat slips, "tying up the line of one of the boats we store here all the time, when he screamed. I turned to see him disappear into the water. I ran to pull him out, but he was gone. He must have fallen off the dock into the lake, but he did not come back up. I jumped in and tried to find him, but after several attempts, I climbed back up on the dock and called 911. The police and fire department came and dragged the lake around the dock; they found him hung up in some tree stumps about 25 feet out from the dock. I don't know how he got way out there. He was an expert swimmer, he should not have drowned. He was on the swim team in college and won all kinds of awards".

Mr. Peterman heaved a sigh and pressed one hand to his forehead. He seemed obviously distressed about the entire event.

"What about the other drownings? We heard there were 3 others in the last 6 weeks", Sam said as he put a gentle hand on Mr. Peterman's arm.

Mr. Peterman glanced up to Sam, and nodded his head slowly. "Yes, all were drowned either while on the dock here, or they had just pulled their boat off from the dock when they fell overboard or at least that what the cops say, and drowned. I don't know how people just fall off of a boat or a dock, and 4 in as many weeks. Something just ain't right about it".

Dean looked over and Sam, and said, "Okay, Mr. Peterman, thank you for your information, if you think of anything else, we are staying at Cabins in the Wood Motel.

Mr. Peterman shook both the Winchester's hands and turned to walk back to his own car, waving to Sam and Dean as he pulled out of the marina.

Dean and Sam walked down to the boat dock and looked out at the water. "Okay, Sam, you take the holy water, I'll read the incantation. Lets kill this ugly son of a bitch", Dean said as Sam started wadding out into the muggy lake water, holding the bottle of holy water gingerly in his hand and removing the top, he poured half the bottle into the lake.

Dean stood on the side of the lake, book in hand, and turned to the page he had marked earlier at the motel. Dean begin to read from the book quickly, while glancing up at Sam, the wind begin to whip around them both and the water starting to ripple. As Dean continued to read, the water began to rise up around Sam, going from his kneecaps to his waist in a mere moment.

"Read faster, Dean, I need to dump the rest of the holy water, but I can't till you get to the right part", Sam said as he waited for the right moment in the reading to dump the holy water in the lake and rid it of its demon.

Dean willed his voice to stay steady, and the words to come quicker. Then he heard the roar of water and he looked up to see Sam standing with the water whirling around him, his had held high above his head, holding the bottle of holy water at the ready. Suddenly, Sam seemed to sink into the water as it rose up above his head, the bottle of holy water disappearing in the water as he did. Dean quickly ran into the water, while still reading from the book of incantations. "…and send you back to hell", he said. The wind roared and the water spun around him for 30 seconds, then everything went quiet, and the water receded. Dean glanced around quickly, expecting to see Sam treading water somewhere.

Sammy, no Sam… where was he.

"Sam", Dean said as he dove into the lake and swam down beneath the surface. Dean came up empty handed and gulped down more air before he made another dive looking for Sam. He glanced around the murky water, it was so dark under the lake, he could not see. Just when he thought his lungs might burst, he saw a hand floating next to him on the right. He quickly grabbed at it, realizing it was Sam. Sam was dead weight, floating down toward the bottom of the lake. Dean grabbed him under the arms and started to ascend to the top, his lungs aching for air. As Dean breached the surface he gulped heartily and pulled Sam's face up and out of the water, his brother's head lolling gently back and forth.

Dean leaned in listening for breathing sounds from his brother, his heart beating, thumping in his head, as he realized that Sam was not breathing. He swam quickly back to shore, dragging his lifeless brother with him. Laying him on his back on the rocky shoreline, he tilted his head back and breathed a quick breath in his mouth. Clasping his hands he gently pushed on Sam's unmoving chest.

One…Two...Three…Four…Five…Air. Come-on Sammy, breath, Dean's mind was racing.

One…Two…Three…Four…Five…Air, "Sammy…oh...God please, Sam breath", Dean whispered.

Just then Sam started to cough and then gasped and retched, dirty brown water coming out of his nose and mouth. Dean quickly laid him to his side, tapping the palm of his had on Sam's upper back.

"It's okay Sam, you're okay, just breath little brother". Dean said with a shaky breath as he laid Sam back down on the dirty ground. Sam's glazed eyes looking up at Dean, chest heaving to take in the much needed air he was lacking.

"Dean…" Sam said in a low whisper.

"Just relax, Sammy… breath". Dean reached down and ran his hand through Sam's wet hair tugging it out of his eyes.

Dean helped his brother up to a sitting position; Sam leaned heavily on Dean, his gangly limbs shaking. They sit there on the rocky shore for a long time, as Dean watched some of the color return to Sam's face, his breathing leveling off to a normal pattern.

"Okay, little brother, you ready to move". Dean said as he took his hand and cupped it under Sam's chin, tilting it up, and looking intently into his younger brother's eyes.

"Ummmm…ye…yea…" Sam said in a slow slur.

"Sam, do you need a hospital?" Dean said as he continued to hold Sam's face in his hand, allowing him to lean into him

"Naaa, no, no, I'm okay", Sam said as he shook his head in a small movement, attempting to clear his brain from the fog he was under.

Dean pulled Sam up and led him back to the car. Sam's feet tried to assist, but Dean ended up dragging him most of the way. Dean opened the passenger door, while holding Sam up solidly against him. He slid Sam in the seat, shutting door quickly, he ran around to the driver's side, he slipped quickly into the seat. He glanced over at Sam, whose eyes were mere slits, but open at least, and gunned the Impala back out on the road and to the motel.

After a couple of quiet minutes, Sam's head lulled over toward Dean, he looked at his brother and said in a low whisper, "It was dark Dean…just like, just like…. in my nightmare, vision…I …I couldn't… breath, I couldn't mo….move... move, it was holding me down….pu…pulling me. I couldn't brea…th…"

"It's okay now, Sam", Dean said as he reached over and took his brothers hand.   
"I gotcha Sammy…its okay".

Sam smiled a small smile and let his eyes close into darkness.

"I'm Okay ….Dean…just tired". Sammy said as his mind shut down from the trauma he had just experienced, the darkness of sleep overtaking him.

Dean looked over at his brother as remorse hit him full force. He knew now, knew he had made a selfish choice when he took the demons deal. Sam, oh god, how was Sam going to survive without him. He had always been there to take care of him, look out for him, and keep him safe. The thought of Sam, with supernatural forces attacking him, visions assaulting him, and Dean not there to save him, took Dean's breath away. Nope, not happening, Dean thought, he was going to have to do something about this deal and he had 251 days to do it in.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

It had been two days since the boy's had killed the water wraith, since Sam had drowned, Dean had saved him, and realized he was going to have to make an all out effort to get out of the deal he made with the demon. It was day 112 of the last year of Dean's life; he figured that he had 253 days left to come up with some kind of plan.

Sam had been extremely tired since his near death experience, the second such experience in the last year. It was obvious to Dean that Sam needed a break, but Sam denied it. He kept up his research, when he wasn't sleeping, but he looked drained, and he slept more than he searched. Dean decided on the third day after the water wraith, that they would move on, but he did not tell Sammy, they were not going to hunt. He would just object. Sam would only say they had too many demons left to kill, too may people to save, to many people he could talk to about the deal with the demon. Dean knew Sam asked questions at every stop, went to every library, searched every local site, in every town they went to. Dean decided to keep it to himself that his goal was to find a quiet, out of the way place, and rest for a few weeks.

Dean loaded the duffle bags into the trunk of the Impala and then went back inside to check on Sam. Sam was lying back across the bed; his knees bent, shoes on, but dragging on the floor. His left hand was lying open on his chest, his other hand lying limply at his side. He looked a little pale for Dean's liking.

"Sam", Dean leaned over to look Sam in the face, "You okay?"

Sam looked up at Dean with lazy eyes. Dean tiled in a little closer and he heard Sam speak in a low whisper, "Noooo…"

No was not the response Dean had expected. Sam never admitted when he was sick, or did not feel good. It was a given, he would blow Dean off, not admit when he was wupped. Dean quickly sat down and reached a hand up to Sam's forehead.

"Jez, you're burning up, Sammy", Dean said as he ran his hands through Sam's sweat drenched hair.

"Sam…." Dean touched his cheek. Sam wheezed in some air and Dean lifted his hand off his chest, holding it in his own hand, he laid his ear down on his brother's chest. He could hear the congestion in Sam's lungs. The wheezing very prominent as he struggled to take in air.

"Sam...You should have said something earlier". Dean's head raised and he looked in Sam's eyes.

"I…I know, thought…'gasp', thought 'gasp', I wz OK". Sam said raggedly.

"Ok, let's get you to the doctor", Dean said as he placed an arm around Sammy and gently lifted him to a sitting position. Sam swayed as he sat up placing a hand on Dean's arm to steady him.

The Impala rumbled into the hospital emergency room entrance and pulled quickly to a stop. Dean glanced over at Sam.

"Okay Sam, lets get you looked at".

"K…" Sam wheezed.

Dean ran around to the passenger side door, Sam falling toward him, out of the seat, as he swung the door open. Dean helped his brother to stand, Sam leaning heavily into Dean's grasp. Slowly, they made their way to the emergency door. As the doors slid open, Dean pulled Sammy up higher in his arms and led him to an empty seat. Two and one half hours later, they were still waiting to see a doctor. Sam's wheezing getting louder as they sat.

"Okay, that's it", Dean spouted, eyebrows arching into a wicked glare.

"De…it's 'gasp' its okay". Sam whispered as he glanced from his too long bangs over to his brother, fever making his hair stick to his forehead.

Dean jumped up, stomped to the nurse at the front desk and slammed his fist down on the counter.

"My brother needs a doctor…NOW", Dean growled out.

Sam snickered to himself, his brother sounded just like his Dad. If Dean knew that, he would certainly change his demeanor.

"I'm sorry, Mr.…Mr.…Winston is it, your brother is next", the nurse stammered out.

Finally, after two hours and 45 minutes, Sam was taken back to an examination room. Dean helped him to get up on the table, and sat himself down in the chair next to Sam. Sam closed his eyes, dozing while waiting on the doctor.

A nurse came in and took Sam's blood pressure, temperature and asked about his symptoms. Sam was talking so low, that Dean spoke up and answered the questions for him.

"He's been feeling tired lately, before, before he fell in the lake last week, and almost drowned". Dean said loudly, as the doctor glanced up at him from Sam.

The doctor listened to Sam's lungs, pressed around on his back and neck and then shined a light in his eyes. Sam winced at the headache the light caused him to have.

"Well", the young doctor said as he turned on the stool to face Dean. "Looks like your brother has pneumonia, probably due to the fall in the lake, although, I think you were probably run down before hand".

"Whoa…" Dean said as his hand coming up and pulling through his hair. "Sam… I could kick your ass", he muttered.

The doctor looked wide eyed from Dean back to Sam.

"Okay, calm down… I will prescribe antibiotics to take three times a day, they are strong pills, and must be taken with food. I will also give you some pain relievers for the head ache and pain, take Tylenol for the fever. You need to take it easy, and by easy, I mean don't do anything, or you will end up in the hospital". The doctor glared and nodded at Sam.

Sam shook his head, acknowledging the doctors instructions.

The doctor looked back to Dean, "If his symptoms don't improve or his fever goes up, bring him back, this is nothing to mess around with".

Dean extended his hand to the doctor as he got up to leave the room.

"The nurse will bring you the prescriptions". He said as he shook Dean's hand and left the room.

Dean turned to yell at Sam, but his mouth slammed shut, when he saw that Sam was sound asleep lying on the exam table.

Once Sam's prescriptions were filled, Tylenol and antibiotics administered, Dean tucked Sam into the front seat, a blanket draped over him.

"Let's find a place we can stay for a couple of weeks, Sam". Dean said as he pulled out onto the road. Sam head lay, eyes looking hazily at Dean from the passenger seat.

"K…." Sam said as he dozed back to sleep.

Dean drove for two hours until he passed through a small town outside of Louisville. He pulled into the motel as he glanced over at his sleeping brother. He opened the door and stepped quickly into the lobby of the Bluegrass Inn motel. He talked briefly with the manager about the weather and where the best place to eat was located in this little town. He was back out quickly and pulling the car into the parking spot in front of number 17, their new home for the next two weeks… two weeks, at least, Dean thought as he went around helping Sam into the room.

"Sammy… come-on bro, lets get you inside", Dean said gently as he shook his brother's shoulder to wake him up.

"Ummmm…" was all Sam said as he leaned into Dean and attempted to stand.

"Whoa there, kiddo", Dean said as Sam swayed into him. "I gotcha", and Dean slung Sam's arm up around his neck and helped his brother to walk into the room. "Move your feet, Sam, shit… I can't drag your ass everywhere". Dean snarked out as he attempted to get Sam inside. Sam glanced up at Dean and snickered. Dean smiled, and thought to himself; well at least he is coherent now.

Once Dean had Sam comfortably deposited on his bed, shoes removed, covers pulled up to his neck, he retrieved the bags from the trunk, turned up the air condition, and lay down across his own bed. Sam may be sick, but Dean was just beat. Sleep claimed them both for the long afternoon.

Dean woke around 5:30 p.m. and checked on his brother, gave his some food, medicine and helped him to change into his t-shirt and sleep pants. Once Sam was fed, doped up, and comfortable he flipped on the T.V. to watch the news. Sam was sleeping, again. Boy, Dean laughed to himself, this was going to be a long two weeks.

In the quiet of the motel room, Dean's thoughts once again ran to the deal. What was he going to do to get out of it? He had to do something, look at this situation right here, it was a prime example that Sam really needed him. His brother had no one else. Dean knew he had always taken care of Sam and he was more than a brother to him, he was closer to a father figure. Dean knew his Dad may have been special to him, but to Sam, well, they never got along well, so it was Dean that was Sam's whole world. Think…think… think… Dean thought again, there has to be something I can do, the T.V. quietly playing in the back round and Sam sleeping on.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dean awoke as the sun streamed in the window and onto his face. Day 113, Dean thought, as he stretched and swung his feet over the bed. He looked at the clock, 7:05 a.m. He had been sleeping long enough, and he was hungry. He quickly dressed, glanced over at Sam, and then put a quickly scribbled note on the pillow next to Sam's head. "Gone for food, back in just a view… Dean".

Dean drove around the small town near the motel looking for a McDonalds or Burger King, something with a breakfast menu. He swore under his breath when he realized the only eating establishment near the motel was 'Taco, Taco, and Burrito' and that did not sound too appealing. He could drive further from the motel, but was too worried about Sam to venture anymore than 10 to 15 minutes from him. What a god forsaken town, he thought. When he arrived back at the motel, he woke Sam, who was still in a fever induced sleep.

"Sam", he prodded, "You need to wake up and eat something".

"Not hungry", Sam mumbled and pulled the cover up over half his face, only his eyes and nose peering out from the blanket.

"Come on, Sammy… here; at least eat some of it". Dean encourage.

"What is it?" Sam peered bleary eyed at the object in Dean's hand.

"A breakfast burrito", Dean said as he slid into Sam's hand.

"Gross… I don't think I can eat that", Sam wheezed out and then had a small coughing fit, dropping the burrito on the bed as he clasped both hands up to his chest.

"Geez, that hurts", Sam said foggily, bloodshot eyes looking up at Dean.

"Okay Sam, what can you eat, cause you are so eating something", Dean said as he grabbed the messy breakfast burrito off the bed and stuffed it back in the bag. It did look pretty disgusting, but hey, it tasted good, Dean smirked to himself.

"Fruit", Sam rolled to his side, closing his eyes, and burrowing further down in the pillow.

"Ok, you are such a girl…. I will be right back. I'm going to get you some fruit". Dean picked up his car keys on the nightstand and headed out the door again, giving one last glance at his sleeping brother.

_Sam's vision was fever induced. He was seeing a big bell, deserted streets, and dust blowing wildly in the wind. He was in Cold Oak again…alone._

Sweat dripped down Sam's face as he thrashed about in the bed, gasping for air.

_The demon was standing right in front of him, grinning wickedly with his yellow eyes. _

He tossed in his sleep, arms flailing, moaning, covers bundling around his legs.

"_Noooo….no," Sam panted out, his heart racing in his chest. He felt a hand clasp his shoulder in his foggy mind; he quickly turned to see Andy. _

"_Hey there, Winchester", Andy said with a quirky grin. _

"_Andy", Sam took a step closer and reached out to touch him. _

"_It's me", Andy sighed, "I'm in your dream, kind of neat, huh." Andy smiled._

"_I'm dream'n", Sam ventured, still not sure weather he was having a dream, a nightmare, or a vision. "The demon, the demon was here", he said unsteadily. _

"_You're just dreamin, man". Andy laughed a light laugh and motioned to Sam to walk with him. _

"_Sam, you know you can learn to control your powers", Andy's eyes darted up to see Sam's. "You know you can, I did, Ava did, and you can too". _

"_But, Ava was evil", Sam stopped and looked into Andy's face._

"_Yes, but I wasn't, your powers…. you can control them, control your powers", Andy leaned in placing both hands on Sam's shoulders. "Try"._

_Andy begin to fade away, the dream becoming woozy, the buildings and streets in Cold Oak waving and finally disappearing totally from Sam's fever induced conscious. _

Dean juggled the bag of fruit in one hand, and the key to the motel room in the other, finally getting the key to turn in the lock, the door swinging open.

"Sam, I'm back… feeling like I got the whole freaking fruit stand here…." Dean sat the bag on the table and dropped the keys with a loud clunk. Glancing over at Sam, he could see the fever coming off of his brother in waves. Sam was languishing on the bed, pillow thrown to the floor. The covers were wrapped around his gangly legs, arms hanging limp, breath coming out in wheezing gasps. Dean could see his face was red with heat, hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

"Sammy", Dean stepped quickly over to the bed and placed his hand on Sam's forehead.

"Whew…. We gotta get that fever down", he mumbled to himself.

Dean stepped hurriedly to the bathroom and pushed the rubber stopper down in the tub, beginning to fill it with cold water. He ran back to Sam, who was lying very still on the bed, eyes closed.

"Sammy…Sam…Sam", can you hear me; Dean leaned down and said loudly in his ear.

Sam eyes dragged open into mere slits as he looked up at Dean, his arms reaching up and floundering around trying grasp onto him.

"De..." Sam whispered as his breath drug in raggedly.

"Come on little brother", Dean leaned Sam up to a sitting position, looking at him as he slumped into his arms; he realized Sam was never making it to the tub on his own steam. Dean gently bent down and grabbed Sam beneath the knees, laying his head up on his own shoulder, curling him to his chest, like he was still a small child; he heaved him up and off the bed.

"Ummm", Dean strained as he carried his brother the seven feet from his bed to the bathroom and turned sideways to fit them both through the door. He gently lay Sam down in the tub, he was still in his clothes, no time to remove them, Sam began shivering hard as soon as his heat drenched body hit the cold water.

"No…no…co...cold", Sam squirmed and tried to push himself out of the tub. Dean held him steady, eventually, Sam began to stop fighting.

"It's okay, Sammy…I gotcha". Dean took a rag from the ratty towel rack on the back of the bathroom door; he began to gently wipe off Sam's sweat drenched brow. Sam slumped back into the tub, head lolling from side to side. His breath began to calm down, the shaking subsiding, he seemed to be getting more oxygen to his weaken body.

"Sammy…you with me here?" Dean asked, concern in his tone.

Sammy slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Dean then around the tub.

"What am I doin' in here? You tak'n a bath with me?" Sam voice was weak, but his eyes were clear, a small smirk on his face. Dean could see that his fever was down.

Dean quickly grabbed a towel and leaned down to help Sam up and out of the tub.

"You had a high fever, bro; I carried you in here to get your temperature down". Dean reached down and pulled Sam up to a standing position and began drying him off. Sam swayed on his weak legs. Dean grabbed him to steady his movement. Dean sat Sam down on the cool tile of the bathroom and went to get him some dry clothes.

"Here, Sammy lets get these wet clothes off, and get you back to bed".

"'Kay" Sam leaned his head back on the wall and waited for Dean to help him. Eventually, after some effort on his part, Dean got Sam changed and back into bed. Sam's mind blank, a light humming in his head. He felt himself starting to drift, just beyond the sleep that was coming to claim him.

"Wait…Sam….take these pills", Dean held four pills to his brothers lips, and Sam opened his mouth while not even looking at Dean, he sipped on the cup of cool water that Dean was holding to his lips. It felt so good going down his parched throat that he gulped it greedily.

"Whoa, don't drink to fast, it will make you sick". Dean sat the cup down on the nightstand, pulled the covers up, and brushed his brother's too long locks out of his eyes.

"Just rest" he said quietly, barely above a whisper.

Sam heard Dean, his heavy limbs barely wanting to move. He felt callus hands running tenderly through his hair; it lulled him to a peaceful, dream free sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

Sam heard tapping…tap, tap, tap… what was the incessant tapping? He scrunched his eyes open; he quickly brought his hand up to shield the sun from glaring into his face. He turned his head to the side, to see his brother Dean, head down, one finger on each hand pounding on the keys of the laptop.

"De…an", Sam's voice croaked out. Apparently, when you don't use it you loose it, Sam thought to himself.

"Well, well, welcome to the land of the living, Sammy". Dean quickly put the laptop down and jaunted over to the edge of Sam's bed; sat down, face glaring intently at Sam.

"How you feeling there, sleeping beauty?" Sam was finally coherent, Dean thought. He quickly brushed his hand up to Sam's face. No fever, thank god, Dean smiled.

Sam pushed himself up toward the headboard on shaky arms.

"Better… I think, how long have I been sleep'n?" Sam ran a weary hand through his own hair and looked at his brother with quizzical eyes.

"About four days, give or take", Dean grinned at Sammy.

"Wow, I missed four days?!" Sam exclaimed, his voice rising two levels.

"Yep, four of the longest days of my life…" Dean grimaced when he realized what he had just said. Sam shifted in the bed, the frown decorating his face.

Dean patted Sam on he leg, and moved back to the chair he had been sitting in, grabbing the laptop as he sat down.

"Dean, while I was out…out of it…I had a dream". Sam stuttered out as Dean glanced up from the laptop to stare at Sam.

"What about?" he asked as his fingers stopped intently just above the laptop keys.

"I saw, I was there in Cold Oak…again", Sam placed his hands against the bed covers, rubbing his palms nervously down the and across the blanket that covered his legs.

"What…you were never gone, Sam, you were right here the whole four days". Dean nodded at Sam with a knowing look.

"Andy was there, in my dream, talking to me, telling me…." Sam's voice trailed off. He looked directly into Dean's eyes.

"Telling me to learn to control my powers, he was so confident, so alive". Sam looked down at the bedspread, as if it was the most important thing in the room.

"Sam, I'm not sure how you saw Andy, I'm not sure what he told you or why, but I am sure that you can do anything you want too. I have faith in you, in your gifts, abilities, whatever the hell you want to call them. I had hoped you were done with them, with the demon gone, but if they aren't, if it is due to some freaky blood connection, or whatever….then you…we… just have to accept it, accept them…All I know….is you will always be John Winchester's son, my brother, and you will never…ever be evil, it is not in you. You are the most compassionate, caring, and giving person that I know." Dean's eyes gleamed; he turned his face quickly back down to the laptop, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Sam shifted on the bed, trying not to look uncomfortable. Did his brother just initiate a 'chick flick' moment? Sam cleared his throat and threw the covers off his long legs.

"Do you think I have other abilities, like Andy, like Ava? " Sam asked as he looked innocently back over to Dean, all wide eyed, inquisitive, like a child.

"I don't know Sam". Dean sighed, he remembered this look. The look that a small child had given him so many times growing up, asking questions, wanting answers, Dean was never sure if he could give them, but he always tried. He spoke softly as he looked up again at Sam. "I do know…" Sam leaned in tentatively, waiting on a response from his brother.

"I do know…. you need a bath". Dean's eyebrows darted up, and a laugh spread across his face. Sam laughed too; he leaned his head down and smelled his t-shirt. He did stink. Sam grabbed the pillow behind his head and threw it at Dean, both of them laughing a hearty laugh, a happy laugh, one they remembered from their childhood, one they had needed for awhile.

One week later, Sam and Dean were going stir crazy. Dean had insisted they stay where they were, took some downtime, for Sam to get over his recent bout with pneumonia. So, they were stuck in this little town, with only 4 channels on the T.V. Dean sat, the remote in his hand, flicking back and forth from one channel to the other, looking for anything beside Jerry Springer to watch. There is not shit on daytime television, the thought to himself.

Sam sat on the bed next to him, leaned up, back against the headboard, holding a fork in one hand, out straight in front of him, staring intently at it. Dean glanced over at him and laughed.

"What the hell are you doing Sammy", he shifted over to his side so he could see his brother more clearly.

"I'm trying to bend this fork", Sam said coyly, a big smirk coming up to his lips.

"Oh, come on Sam, are you trying to tell me that you're a spoon bender?" Dean chuckled loudly.

"No, well, yea…. No, but I hope to be". Sam's eyes glimmered up to Dean. "I have a plan; it just came to me since my dream about Andy".

"What plan", Dean rolled to a sitting position, flung his legs over he side of the bed, curious eyes glancing from the fork, to Sam, and back to the fork.

"If I can bend this fork, if I can control that, then who says I can't control other things?" Sam said as he squinted intently at the fork.

Dean stared at the fork himself, willing it to move, willing Sam to make it move….nothing.

After a few minutes of intense staring, Dean grew bored.

"Come on Sammy, it ain't happening. Dean glared back at the T.V. Sam continued his intense staring and concentrating on the fork, his forehead wrinkled up.

Another five minutes went by; suddenly, Dean stood up, took two large steps toward Sam, grabbed the fork, bent it with his bare hands, and returned it to Sam's hand.

"There ya go, the fork is bent", Dean plopped back down on his bed and grabbed the remote, chuckling to himself.

"You're an ass", Sam said as he looked from the fork to his brother.

Ah….Dean thought, his usual cocky grin in place, the joys of brotherhood.


	8. Chapter 8

So many Demons, So little Time Chapter 8 

On the 167th day, of the last year of Dean's life, they boy's were staying at a run down dump in Homerville, Pennsylvania. The place was gloomy, very little light shining in through the dirty windows, bedspreads old, bathroom sink leaking to a constant drip, drip, drip. Dean was setting at the old table, straining to see in the dim lights, scanning the internet, again, hoping to find some clue as to how he could get out of his deal with the crossroad demon.

Sam, in his usual position, now sat on the floor of their motel room, legs crossed, arms lying at his side, hands and fingers shaped in little circles, wrists arching up to the ceiling. This was his new thing, concentrating on his powers, willing things to happen. Dean thought it was hilarious, but did not want to upset his brother, so he let him have at it. Whatever he could do to make his brother feel like he was going to save him, if this was making Sam feel better, then so be it. Dean did think Sam looked ridiculous each night, but, he kept that knowledge to himself.

There had been three deaths just outside of Homerville, at the site of an old orphanage. According to the research, the orphanage had burned down back in 1957, most of the children escaped, but twelve children's bodies were found in the basement. People in the area had reported hearing children screaming in the night for the past 50 years, but now, people were dying. So, here they were, once again, hunting the supernatural, fending for the less fortunate, taking care of business.

Sam glanced up at his brother, peering intently at the computer screen. This is going to work, he thought, I am going to save my brother. He brought his eyes back to the front, staring at the glass he had sat on the floor. Move. Move…damn it. Sam's thoughts were focused, he was willing the glass to move, just a few inches, shatter, something. Still…nothing.

Sam sighed, and shifted to his feet. Dean looked over at his brother, his lips turning up at the corners, but he didn't say anything. Sammy's heart was in the right place. He was trying. It was loads better now; at least Sam was sleeping at night, not staying up scouring the internet, making phone calls, looking for a way out of the deal. No, now that was Dean's job. He was hell bent on not leaving Sam; he was going to find a way because he knew he could not leave his brother.

"So", Sam sighed again and sat down on the bed closest to where Dean sat. "About these screaming kids… you think they are the problem here?"

Dean turned off the laptop, shut the monitor down, it clicked and sputtered and then went off.

"I think we need a new laptop", Dean ventured. "This one is fix'n to die... I mean quit on us". Dean tried not to draw attention to the 'fix'n to die' part of that sentence, my bad, he thought. He knew Sam would pick up on it though. Anytime death, dying, or just leaving was mentioned, he saw the hurt in Sam's eyes, the fear that radiated from the windows of his soul.

"Yea", Sam said, trying to ignore Dean's play on words.

"I think we need to find these little vagrants, and fry um". Dean stood and reached for his jacket, tucked neatly around the back of the chair he had been sitting in moments before.

"It's nearly midnight Sammy; get your jacket, time to pick up the kids". Sam laughed and grabbed his coat from the bed.

As the black Impala rumbled up the old gravel drive, high beans glaring into the dark night. The moon shining an eerie light glow over the old shell of a burned out orphanage. They drove past the sign that was swinging in the wind, 'Homerville Orphanage'.

"We're here", Dean said as he pulled the car into park underneath some trees, to the side of the gravel drive. "Now, let's see if we can find the kiddies", he turned his head and winked at Sam as he opened the door and walked to the trunk, Sam grinned and followed behind.

Reaching in the trunk, they grabbed the holy water, salt gun, shovel, matches, and gasoline stuffing what they could in their pockets, Dean placed the gun over his shoulder and handed Sam the shovel.

"Why do I get the shovel?" Sam stuck his flashlight in his jacket pocket, glaring at his brother.

"Cause that's what you do best", Dean snickered and slammed the trunk closed.

The moon hanging high in the sky made the need for a flashlight unnecessary. Walking up toward the blackened wood peering up into the night sky, Sam felt chills go down his spine.

"This place looks creepy in the dark". He glanced over to Dean, who nodded his head in agreement.

The ground underneath Dean's boots crunched as he walked around the burnt out building looking for anything out of the ordinary.

"So where are these kids when this happened? Why didn't they get out of the building? How do we get rid of them?" Sam asked as he poked around in the dirt and rubble with the shovel.

"Why?, what is with the questions dude?" Dean glared over at Sam. Sam just shrugged up his shoulders and continued to walk.

"Well, if you had done the research, instead of sitting around on your ass trying to move glasses and bend forks, you would know. But, since I am the awesome big brother that I am, I guess I will tell you what I found out".

Dean eyes glanced over at Sam and then back to the floor.

"Their bodies were found in the basement, all huddled in the corner, lying on top of each other, they were locked down there. We have to unlock the door and say a blessing, to send their souls to the next plane". Dean grinned, for once he knew the plan and Sam did not, how amusing.

"Were they all accounted for? Sam said as he stepped around his brother, and scoured the floor for some entry to the basement of the old burnt out building.

"Nope", Dean leaned down to scrap at a hook on the floor, he pushed aside some debris and there was a latch and a door in the floor. "Yatzee", Dean reached down and gingerly yanked on the door, it was heavy; he sat the salt gun down on the floor, and proceeded to struggle with the latch using both hands.

"Want to help me out here, little brother", Dean glanced over at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, watching Dean eagerly.

"I'm holdin' the shovel". Although the light was dim, Dean saw the grin rise up and curl on Sam's lips.

"Bitch" Dean grunted out as the latch began to give and he heaved the door open with one large grunt.

"Jerk", Sam stepped over toward the opening, just behind Dean; grabbing his flashlight out of his jacket pocket and shinning it down the hole. Concrete steps leading down further than the light could shine.

Dean reached around to grab the salt gun as Sam stood at the top of the stairs, gripping his flashlight in one hand and the handle of the shovel in the other.

Suddenly the area around the opening grew cold; the low sounds of screaming children echoing through the night air. Dean felt a burning sensation on his arm, like a hand gripping him. He glanced down to see what looked to be a child glaring back up at him, hands wrapped around his sleeve. The next moment happened so quickly that they could barely comprehend it. In a brief second, Sam was pushed down the stairs into the dark opening, the door coming up in the air, and slamming with a thud back down on the floor. Dean was shoved to the right and up against what was left of the back wall of the building, with a large thud; his head hit a wooden beam.

Dean felt the hands on his arm, heard the commotion, and the next thing he knew, he was seeing stars, literally. He felt his head bang into something, and then he slid down to the ground. All knowledge of the living world disappearing as his mind faded to black.

Sam tumbled head first down the stairway, bumping, tumbling, gasping as he continued his assent into darkness. The flashlight thudded loudly as it banged down to the bottom of the stairs, landing with a thud, a light beam shining up the stairway. Slowly, Sam pushed himself to a sitting position, his gangly legs lying halfway up to the third step. Catching his breath, Sam turned his head from side to side looking into the darkness. He heard low screams coming from behind him and quickly grabbed the flashlight and pointed it toward the sound. His mouth fell open in a gape as he saw twelve small apparitions, boys and girls, standing in a huddle, crying, wailing, and hugging to each other.

"It's okay", Sam pushed against the wall with his left and turned as he rose to his feet.

He leaned the shovel against the wall, and held his hands out in front of him, flashlight dangling in one had.

"It's okay", he said again in a whisper.

One of the children looked up at Sam, large eyes leering at him. "We were locked down here", he whimpered, tears falling down his ghostly cheeks. "Tommy locked us down here".

"Why?" Sam asked as he walked toward the small ghosts.

"We all came down here to play, it was fun to play down here", the smallest boy stated, "until, Tommy decided he wanted to smoke a cigarette".

The other children all nodded as if in agreement with the little boy.

"When we all said 'no', he got mad, he ran up the stairs…" a slightly older child said.

"He locked us all down here", the small boy said again.

"It's okay", Sam said again glancing back up toward the steps he had just descended. Where was Dean?, he thought as he glanced up at the door. "I won't let you stay locked down here", he tilted his head and smiled gently at the children.

"O…O…kay", one of the girls said in a tear induced heave.

Dean slowly felt a conscious thought coming to his mind as he moaned and tried to raise himself from the floor. Where the hell was he; where was Sam? he thought. He heard a loud laugh to his right, and turned on his shaky arms to see a ghost, a child of about ten years old leering at him with hate filled sunken eyes. Dean pushed quickly on his hands to attempt to raise himself from the dirty floor, pain flowing intently through his forehead and around the back of his head. He lifted his hand to rub at the back of his skull, only to feel a golf ball size lump residing there.

"Sam….SAM…." Dean yelled, looking around for his salt gun.

Sam heard his name, he heard Dean voice yelling it loudly. He quickly jumped over to the steps leading out of the basement and ran to the top, the light from the flashlight shined dully on the wooden hatch above him.

"Dean… Dean", Sam yelled, throwing the flashlight to the steps. Sam could hear a struggle going on just above the door; he pushed up hard with his shoulder on the wood above him. The hatch moved a little, but did not come open. Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "What to do, what to do…" thoughts running quickly through his mind.

The ghostly figure of the child came quickly to rest right above Dean, he felt bony fingers grabbing for his neck. He needed Sam or the salt gun…now.

"SAM…. Help me", Dean yelped.

Sam heard Dean screaming his name, his mind was racing. He pushed hard with his shoulder on the door again, adrenaline rushing through his brain, his arms, his body. The door did not budge, anger began to course through Sam's veins, it was not going down like this, Dean had a year and by God he was doing to have it. Sam's eyes scrunched up, his head aching as the door of the hatch suddenly blew open slamming hard to the concrete floor above. Sam was stunned, but only for a moment, he ran up the stairs and out into the old burnt orphanage, mind racing, heart thumping as he scanned the room for Dean. His eyes landing on the sight of his brother, lying on the dirty floor, ghost of a horrid child on top of him, hands around his neck.

"Salt gun", Sam's mind flatly stated to him. He saw the gun on the floor not two feet from Dean's grabbing hand. He jumped the five feet, grabbed the salt gun, and fired off a shot at the ghost; it weaved, swayed and faded into the wind. Dean gasped for air, gulping it in greedily as the fog over his brain cleared.

"To…ok, took you long…enough". Dean reached for Sam's hand, and pulled himself to a swaying stand. Sam braced his hand on Dean's arm, steadying him.

Just then, the ghost of the child appeared again, standing right in front of them both, eyes void of life, skin pale, screaming loudly. The ghost reached out for Dean. Sam was livid, fury raging in his mind as the child attempted one more time to hurt his brother.

"Get away from my brother", he said loudly, his voice echoing on the walls of the burnt out orphanage, his head shooting sharp burst of pain up through his eyes. The ghost glimmered, the boy looking at Sam.

"Get away from your brother?" the ghost said in a low growl, it looked again at Dean, then whispered "Yes". The ghost seemed to turn to mist, caught up in the wind, rising into the trees and with one last scream disappeared into the dark.

Dean looked at Sam, questions in his eyes, as he weaved and leaned into his brother.

"I gotcha", Sam guided Dean back to the floor to sit, pressing his head down into his bent knees.

"Stay there", Sam advised Dean as he reached into Deans coat pocket and pulled out the 'Book of Blessings', his brother had marked the page earlier and placed the book in his pocket while at the motel, back when Sam had been busy staring at the glass on the floor.

"This it", he pointed to the page and Dean nodded slowly. Sam began to read the page…'and so we send these lost souls forward on their journey'; Sam looked up as he finished the last of the page. The mist rose up from the basement swirling, and screaming in low voices. The ghosts of the small children finally escaping the basement, they had been held hostage for fifty years. Dean tilted his head up to watch as they danced around for a few seconds and then disappeared up into the night air.

"Okay, Dean, lets get you out of here and back to the motel, I think we are done". Sam leaned down and put his arm around Dean's waist and began to hoist him up.

"What about devil boy…you know the one with his grimy hands around my throat?"

"He's gone", Sam stated flatly, eyes glancing to Dean and back to the front.

"Did you…how do you know?" Dean peered back at Sam with wide eyes.

"Just do", Sam pulled Deans arm up around his shoulder, walking and dragging his brother back to the Impala.

Dean swayed into Sam, sound rushing in his head, not sure if it was because of the head injury he had just obtained, or the notion that Sam had just planted in his brain. Did Sam make that ghost leave him alone? How? Where did it go? How? All the thoughts in Dean's mind were jumbled, confused, so he stumbled along quietly, not asking, and not wanting to know.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 

The snow came down in a blinding white blanket to cover the road in front of the Impala, Dean turned on the windshield wipers and swore under his breath, "Damn frigid weather, can't see a freak in' thing out here".

Sam reached down and switched the defroster knob up higher.

"Well, what do you expect, we are in North Dakota in the middle of February", Sam nodded his head toward the weather outside the window.

"I know, leave it to us to find a hunt in a blizzard". Dean reached his gloved hand up to wipe the fog from the front windshield. Sam shifted in the seat and pulled his coat up tighter around his neck, peering out the passenger window.

"We could stop", Dean hand gripped the steering wheel tighter as the car fishtailed on the black ice.

"But, we need to get there, people are dying", Sam whispered in a low voice.

Dean grimaced, while helping innocents was his calling, driving in the middle of a snowstorm wasn't. Dean was trying hard to do what Sam needed him to do, to support him. As he drove he was absorbed in his own thoughts, still mentally counting down his own days, the days till the end of his life…day 201, he thought as his hands gripped even tighter on the steering wheel cutting the blood off to his fingertips.

Dean thoughts kept coming back to Homerville, Pennsylvania. The hunt that was causing Dean's thoughts to run rampant, questions popping into his mind. They had still not discussed it, while it bothered him that the topic had never come up; Dean knew they would, when Sammy was ready.

Sam had been distant since that night at the orphanage. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, analyzing, and rethinking what had occurred. Dean was aware of his behavior, but he had lived with his brother for 23 years, he knew his brother, knew how his mind worked, and why, and so he just accepted it, the waiting. Sam was trying to understand what had happened, and Dean would give him that time, when he was ready, he would talk. So, for now, Dean concentrated on the road, counting down days, hunting the evil that walked the world, and kept his questions and opinions to himself.

Sam was once again staring out at the snowflakes that fell quietly to the ground, his thoughts a thousand miles away, over thinking what had happened at the orphanage. While he wanted to believe he had moved the door with his broad shoulder, he knew in reality, he had not. He recalled the anger, the over bearing urge to protect his brother that had radiated from him. When the door had swung open, he had felt it, as if he had pushed it with his mind. The powerful calm that overcame him in the moment he stared at the form of the child ghost that was hurting his brother. The will that flowed from him to the ghost, "Get away from my brother", he felt it,

overpowering the spirit; pushing his will upon it. Then, watching as the ghost swirled and misted into the night, knowing at that moment, the spirit had gone right back in the gates of hell. Not understanding it, but knowing it, feeling it, he knew he had saved his brother with mind control.

The boys were heading to Devils Lake, North Dakota. They were just outside of Fargo on Highway 29 when the blizzard overcame them. The storm warnings were blaring on the radio, the wind howling and whistling around the car.

"Dean, I think we are going to have to stop", Sam gripped the dashboard hard with both hands as the car shimmed on the snowy road.

"Sorry, dude, I know you wanted to get to Devils Lake, but I agree, this weather is a bitch! Look for a place to pull over". Dean removed his gloves so he could grip the steering wheel tighter, begging the car to stay in his control, trying to stay on the road, The car begin to swerve, the tail spinning around on the icy road.

"Hang on Sammy", Dean yelled as the car careened off the road and down the icy slope. Dean turned the wheel quickly, trying to gain control, but he lost the battle as the car went slip sliding into a tree, hitting with a hard thud.

Dean awoke slowly to the humming of the Impala's engine, his mind fuzzy. He lifted his hand from the steering wheel to his forehead, it was damp, was that blood, he wondered. As he sat their in a few foggy moments, his head began to clear…where was Sam? "S..a..m", he slurred slowly. Nothing, only the sound of the car sputtering and then coming to a complete stop as the engine died from the collision with the tree. The last five minutes came flooding back to Dean in one brief moment, the car, the snowstorm, Sammy. Dean blinked his eyes and reached into his coat pocket for his penlight, turning it on, he shinned it directly to the passenger side. Sam was leaning, his head against the passenger window, glass shattered into little spider webs all around his long locks, blood intermingled in the window.

"Sammy", he whispered and leaned over toward his brother. Reaching his hand out he brushed Sam's hair away so he could see his face. Sam was unconscious, his breath even, blood running down his face and into his closed eyes.

Dean quickly grabbed a tee shirt from the duffle of dirty clothes on the back seat and used it to wipe the blood away.

"Sammy…Sammy… come on little brother, wake up".

Sam groaned a small noise and his head turned so slightly. Dean pulled him away from the window and leaned him into his chest as he examined the lacerations on the side of his face, glass cuts along his hairline, pieces of glass sticking out of his check and eyebrow.

"Gees, Sammy, you're a mess". Dean pushed the tee shirt into the bloody cuts trying to stop the bleeding. Sam moaned again, and his eyes fluttered open into slits.

"De…Dean", Sam looked at Dean with a confused look on his face," Where are we? What…happened?"

"Sh…sh….it's okay Sammy, we just slid off the road in the snow storm, remember", Dean's voice soft, as he leaned Sammy back on the seat.

"Mmm", Sam slurred as his eyes opened a little wider.

"Sam. I got to shine this light in your eyes, okay, I need to see about a concussion…okay? Sam, do you hear me".

"Mmm ...co...cold"

Dean reached the penlight up to shin in Sam's eyes.

"St…top it", Sam swung one hand up to knock the light away. One eye dilated, one not.

"Shit", Dean moved the light quickly away from Sam's face. "Sorry, Sammy, its okay, just sit still".

"Kay…" Sam slurred out in one short breath.

Dean grabbed a towel from the dirty clothes in back and draped it over Sam's shoulders. Hell, he knew dirty laundry would come in handy sometime, at least to keep Sam from going into shock. Sam's head lolled to the side, leaning up against Dean.

"Shit…shit… shit…", Dean breathed out, "Okay, okay; what to do, what to do. Think, Winchester. Heat…Sammy needs to be warm". He put his hand down and turned the key of the Impala, the engine turning over with a light groan. Pumping the gas pedal, he turned the key again, the engine coming to life with a slow roar. Dean reached his hand out and turned the heat up, placing both the vents so they were facing Sam.

He reached his hand into his blue jean pocket and grabbed out the cell phone, flicking it open in one motion. Looking intently at the screen, he saw he had two bars, pressing 911; he held his breath hoping that he has some kind of reception and would get through.

The phone clicked, "911 Emergency Operator, what is your emergency".

Dean let out a heavy breath, "Yes, we ran off the road in the snowstorm".

"Sir, what is your location".

"I don't …somewhere on Hwy 29 just south of Devils Lake… visibility was a bitch, I couldn't see, we ran off the road", he said in one breath.

"Sir, just calm down"

"I can't calm down, my brothers hurt, and we need help…now".

Okay, sir can you give me your exact location.

"Not sure", Dean said as he leaned over to check Sam's face.

"Sir, if you can't give me your exact location, then we will have to track your cell phone, leave it own…"

"I only have 2 bars….what if…."

"We are on our way, just hang in there".

Sam's head lolled to the right and Dean dropped the phone as he grabbed Sam with both hands.

"Sam, you with me here? Sam, answer me". Dean held Sam's head with his right hand and rubbed his left hand across Sam cheek and up through his brown hair. Sam's eyes came open and his lips made a small smile. He remembered this; it was from his childhood, someone taking care of him. Dean reached down and grabbed a small flick of glass that was sitting on Sam's eyelashes and brushed his hand through his hair again.

"H...ey…hey De…" Sam shaky voice whispered.

"Hey kiddo", Dean looked down into Sam's hazy eyes, "how you doing".

"Fi...Fi...fine", Sam said slowly.

"Hey, keep talking to me, you have to stay awake, you have a concussion".

"Kay…De…" Sam reached his right hand to brush against Dean's hand, a comforting gesture he did not realize he did. Dean's hand slid over Sam's, his fingers curling around his brother's wrist.

"So…what about that night in Homerville?" Dean was desperate to start a conversation, to keep Sam awake and coherent.

"Yea…yea, what about that..."Sam said as he blinked his eyes and glanced over at Dean.

"I think you did some mind controlly thing…didn't you?"

"I think…so", Sam's teeth chattered as Dean pulled him closer into his hold. Where were those emergency people, crap, this was taking way to long.

"How'd you do that?" Dean eyes shinning brightly as he looked into Sam's face.

"Not…not sure…just heard you sc...scream…my name. Ha…had to do something, it, it just came out of me".

"You think you can do it again".

"I think soooo". Sam sighed loudly. "My head hurts De…".

"I know, kiddo". Dean glared out the window in the snow, seeing red lights blaring down the road toward them. At last, he thought.

"So, how did you know the demon boy was gone…? I mean you sounded pretty confident, and, well, I checked on the internet, and there have been no more deaths or sightings since we left there". Dean pulled the towel up around Sam's shoulders and curled him in closer to him.

"I just felt it, it's just weird….I do…don't understa…." Sam's eyes started to close.

"Sam", Dean shook Sam in his arms, "Don't go to sleep".

"So tired", Sam slumped limply in Deans arms.

The police car and fire engine came to a halt on the road next to the Impala, the snow coming down in large flakes causing the lights to look like a blur. Dean glared up into the high beam as the light shined down into the car.

The smell of antiseptic woke Sam; he opened sleep filled eyes to see his brother sitting beside him in a white plastic chair. He looks uncomfortable as hell, Sam thought.

"Dean", he said as loud as his voice would go, which to his surprise, was not very load, but Dean heard him.

"Sammy", Dean threw the magazine he was numbly looking at to the floor and scooted the chair closer to Sam.

"What happened", Sam's voice sounded far away to him, like he was in a hole somewhere.

"We wreaked the car in the snow, remember, you are in the hospital in Fargo".

"Are you okay", Sam pointed to the bandage just above Dean's right eye. Dean rubbed his hand across it and smiled.

"Yea…kiddo, I'm fine. You were the one with the big concussion, you been out of it for about five hours, since we got here. How you feeling?"

"I'm Okay", Sam's lips quirked up in a small smile.

"Sam, do you remember the conversation we had in the car, after the wreck?" Dean leaned in and placed his hands on the rail on the bed by Sam's head, inquisitive eyes staring intently at Sam.

"Yes Dean, I remember". Sam shifted on the pillow, closing his eyes.

"Well, if what you said is true, if you can control people, well maybe you can control demons too, like Ava". Dean looked questioningly at Sam who opened his eyes and a small grin spread across his lips.

"Yep….that is the plan", Sam closed his eyes again drifting off into the vast white nothingness of sleep. He had a warm, comforting feeling overtaking him; he might just save his brother after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

The Winchester brothers sat at a small greasy table, another dingy diner, somewhere in the middle of Arkansas. Their day starting out calmly, no rush, no hurry, lazily getting out of bed, taking long showers, and then wondering slowly down to the local hang out to eat breakfast The car had taken about a week to get fixed in Fargo, Sam had recovered from his concussion. The hunt for evil in North Dakota had been a total bust, just some serial killer; the cops had located the crazy man before Sam had even gotten out of the hospital. That had been so fine with Dean; he hated the cold, the snow, and just wanted the hell out of that town. Going south, to nowhere was better than the freaking freezer in Fargo. Thank God Arkansas was warmer.

"Now this is what I'm talking about, when I say downtime", Sam grinned across the red laminated table to Dean, "No getting up early, no hours of car driving, both of us healthy, no injuries to take care of, no researching for hours and hours, yes, this is good". Sam took a long gulf of his coffee and smiled a happy smile at his brother.

Dean nodded, "Yea…this is nice". He did not think he sounded very confident, where was his mask of denial, his pretend face. Suck it up Winchester.

Although Dean agreed with Sam, he also was dealing with his own impending death and it was growing closer with every day. He had ninety six days left, he knew, because he marked off every day of the last nine months in his head. He never said it out loud, because it caused Sammy to dwell, to anguish, and to get upset. So his raw feelings, opinions, thoughts, sat heavily in his own mind, never spoken.

"I think we're heading down to New Orleans", Dean said out of nowhere sitting his cup down on the table so hard the coffee sloshed out and down the side of the cup.

"Whoa… that was random", Sam leaned in and took a hard look at his brother, "What's up, Dean, you seem kind of pissed".

"Well, I don't know, could be I'm gonna die in a little over 12 weeks", the anger in Deans voice rolled across the table to smack Sam right between the eyes. Dam it, Winchester, what happened to keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself, Dean sighed; he could not look at his brother; he turned his head and glared out the window.

"I got you covered, Dean", Sam said confidently.

"Sam, we can't count on your so called "I can make you do what I want" ability, hell are we even sure that is what it is? How do we know you just didn't get a big adrenaline rush, open the door, and then just scare the shit out of the demon ghost boy?" Dean could not help but chuckle at this remark. "You are pretty damn scary dude".

"Bitch" Sam sat down his coffee and smirked.

"Jerk" Dean pushed back his plate still full of food; he had suddenly lost his appetite. He grabbed the ticket off the table.

"Dean….I know it… I know I…" Sam voice trailed off, Dean wasn't listening, easing out of the table, shaking his head.

"Let's go", Dean reached for his wallet, paid, and then pushed the diner door open without looking at Sam.

The ride in the Impala was quiet, too quiet for Sam's liking. What was going on with is brother? Didn't Dean realize that he had a plan, he thought he had explained it to him, hadn't they already talked about this at the hospital in Fargo? It made Sam ache to think his brother did not trust in his words, his abilities. Hell, he had been practicing for the last five months, and now it was working, he was controlling his abilities, he had in Fargo, and he could again, he knew he could. He just knew it, he would just have to show his brother, that's all, and then he would feel better and know that Sam was going to save him.

Glaring ahead into the distance, Dean's world was tinted a golden glow from the sun that bounced off the top of the Implala. It was warm; he had rolled down his window, and let the breeze roll across his face. He was lost in his thoughts, his fears, and his reality. He was going to die. Sam was trying, and Dean knew he was, but he just did not think he could count on a 'maybe' power to save him. While he trusted Sam, he just was a little bit skeptical of this new ability. He shivered in the breeze for a minute, was it the breeze cooling him, or his fear overcoming him. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and continued to glare out the window, destination, New Orleans.

Dean had not told Sam, he would just tell Dean that he had it covered, for Dean to stop worrying. Dean knew that Sam was in denial, that's what it was, denial that Dean was leaving him, the Demon taking him away. Dean knew he had to attempt to save himself, for Sammy. He had gotten a tip from Bobby Singer; that's why they were headed to New Orleans. A voodoo priest there was said to have a way to get Dean out of the deal. At least, Dean thought, this was something he could do, a real lead, so he was going, with or without Sam's approval.

"So who are we going to see in New Orleans", Sam shifted in the passenger seat, cracking his knuckles, glancing over at Dean.

"A voodoo priest just outside of the French Quarter, Bobby put me on to her; she is supposed to be a direct descendant of Marie Laveau, the mother of all voo doo queens". Dean's free hand moved through his hair as he let out a sigh and stared intently at the road ahead.

"Dean, we don't have to do this, I told you, I have this covered". Sam face turned in a small frown.

"I know Sammy, I trust you, I do, but I just ….I just got to do something, I can't just set around and wait and see. If this can work, if I can do something now, get out of the deal, I want to. You have to understand that."

"I guess, if it is what you feel like you have to do, then I will back you up". Sam looked over at Dean, who nodded his head and slowly smiled back at his little brother.

The black Impala pulled slowly into what could possibly be the cheapest looking motel Sam had ever seen, and he had seen a lot of them in his 23 years. He grimaced, as the car came to a halt in front of the pink blinking vacancy sign. The motel looked old and raggedy. A larger sign just above the Managers door announced 'The New Orleans Palace'. Some palace Sam snickered.

Dean drank the last of his cup of black coffee, the 4th one in the last 3 hours and leered over at Sam.

"I'll get the room".

"Yea, you do that, cause I'm scared to get out of the car", Sam grinned and then looked back around the motel. This place was just a little more than Sam thought his stomach was going to be able to handle".

Several minute later, Dean opened the driver's door, sliding in and tossing the key to Sam.

"Room 7, down to the right". Dean pulled the car out and drove to the right as he found the parking spot right in front of the room. Both exited the car, Sam went to open the door of the room, while Dean grabbed the duffels and weapons bag from the trunk.

Sam turned on the light switch, one light, sitting in the corner, on the floor, flickered and then came on, giving a low glow to the room. Sam knew he saw several bugs scattering across the floor, which made his skin crawl and his stomach churn.

"Well, I won't be getting under the covers tonight", he said loudly as Dean walked toward the entry of the door where Sam stood.

"Dean, this is a little below our standards, and our standards are pretty low", he said as he stepped into the room grabbing his duffle bag from Dean and throwing it to the dirty carpet on the floor. He turned to look in the bathroom and gawked at the hideous stains that were on the floor and the wall. Black gunk was sitting in the sink and the toilet was leaking a steady stream on the floor. He turned back and could see a discarded condom rapper, remnants of somebody's good time, just under the bed.

"Dean, do we have to stay here", he whined.

"Sam, can it, I'm tired, and there were no other vacancies…..just go to bed".

"This is just gross", Sam flung himself on the bed, coat and shoes still on, the mattress squeaking and moaning with his weight. He sighed loudly, if Dean heard, he didn't notice as he was already fast asleep laying crisscross his bed.

The car drove down Claiborne Avenue heading toward Tupelo Street and the meeting with Krishna Lavabo the current, on call voodoo priestess. As the car pulled into the short driveway the boys both looked up at the old clapboard house that was not much larger than the room they stayed in at the 'palace' the night before. The doors squeaked open on the Impala and they both shivered in the breeze that blew threw the air, the sun was out, but it suddenly seemed very cold.

Dean stepped on the creaky steps first heading up to the old screen door that was barely hanging on its hinges. Sam stepped up the old steps and stood next to Dean on the porch.

"You okay, sure you want to do this?" Sam bumped his shoulder into his brothers arm and looked over to his face.

"Yea, yea, I'm good, let's just do it, see what she has to say". Dean brought his left hand up and knocked on the door, right hand pushing Sam slowly behind him.

Several minutes went by and then a black woman, turban on her head, necklaces dangling down her chest peered through the screen door eyes glancing up and down Dean.

"I was expecting you", she said as she pushed the screen door open. Dean crinkled up his eyebrows and leered back at her. "Krishna Lavabo?" he asked as he stepped hesitantly across the threshold of her doorway. Sam shuffled his feet quietly behind him, glancing around the dimly lit room.

"Have a seat", she said a smile grin coming across her face. "So, you are the one, I have heard about you; the one that made a deal with the demon".

Sam quickly took a seat and grabbed Dean's arm at the elbow leading him on the coach next to him.

"Ye…Yes", Dean said shakily.

At that moment Sam felt the fear radiating off his brother. Why had he not seen it before how scared Dean was, and why shouldn't he be scared? He had made a deal with the crossroad demon to save Sam. What is wrong with this picture, Sam thought.

Sam shifted uncomfortably on the couch, staring wide eyed at the voodoo priestess. She turned her head and looked quizzically at Sam.

"You are special", she said as she raised her hand and laid it on Sam's arm. He jerked away from her and took in a quick breath; Dean leaned over in front of him.

"Don't touch my brother", Dean positioned his face between the voodoo priestess and Sam. Dean felt Sam shaking ever so slightly next to him and he pressed his hand over against Sam's knee, he seemed to calm momentarily, his breath leveling out as he did so.

"Okay", Dean hissed out, "so how do I get out of this deal with this crossroad bitch", his eyes piercing the dim light and glaring at the priestess.

"Not sure you can", grin coming slowly across her face. Krishna grabbed a necklace around her neck and gently stroked the emblem with her thumb.

"What…what, I thought Bobby said you could get him out of the deal", Sam said his voice quivering, growing louder with every word.

"Sam…calm down", Dean patted him on his knee, "Let her talk".

"There tis a way", Krishna said very above a whisper, "It tis zobop voodoo, very old, only used against very negative forces. If you have all the right 'gredients, at da right time, you can stop the demon from taking ya".

"What do you mean, at the right time?" Dean shifted his elbows to his knees and clasped his hands together. He wanted to wring this old hag's neck, but for now he would just try and maintain his control, for Sam's sake.

"If all ingredients are not perfected, the time exactly 12:01 p.m., on the 13th day prior to your last day of life, then the incantation twon't work, da demon will win, and you will go thirteen days sooner dan ya planned".

"What about my brother, will this affect him, I don't want him hurt, or dying again. I did this to save him, I would do it again".

"Oh, it could be bad, ya know they want him, he got the blood, he tis special, could be dat you don't get it to work, and then da deal would be revoked, and the bitch would take ya both. He got the blood, day goin to want him anyway, with or without you", she leaned into Dean and whispered the words...

"Well, screw that", Dean wheezed in a ragged breath. That was the end of that, he thought, there was no way he would be putting his brother at risk. God, was his brother at risk anyway? God, what was Dean going to do, he knew he had to get out of this deal; he could not leave Sam, under any circumstances.

Dean stood to leave but noticed Sam was not standing. He leaned down to look Sam in the face. He was starring intently at the voodoo priestess, his face all scrunched up, his hand to his temple.

"I know dhat you hav da power…be careful, the demon blood, da will come afta ya", she starred at Sam; her voice haunting, words sending shivers down Dean spine.

"Leave him alone", he said as he grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him toward the door. Sam swayed on unsteady legs, leaning heavily on Dean.

"He can help ya, he has da power", she said as she stuffed a piece of paper into Dean's hand and pushed him toward the front door". "Here are da ingredients, and da incantation for eliminating da demon, but ya take a chance, be careful. Watch da boy, he has da power", she whispered again as the screen door slammed shut behind Sam and Dean.

"Thanks", Dean whispered as he lead Sam down the rickety steps and back to the Impala.

Sam's head was pounding, the humming was loud and it made him dizzy. He could hear Dean and the voodoo priestess talking, but they seemed very far away. Did she just say the demons would be coming after him anyway, with or without Dean? Did she just say that they would want him because of the demon blood, how did she know about that? The weight was pressing down on his chest, he couldn't breath, the room was spinning, his head was pounding, help me, Dean, he thought as he leaned his head down and pressed his hand up to his temple.

The next thing Sam knew, they were in the Impala heading down the road, Dean mumbling softly, "It's going to be okay Sammy". He heard the words, he acknowledged them with a nod of his head and then closed his eyes, drifting off to the pounding that was in his head, someone let the little man out of is brain and make it stop.


	11. Chapter 11

So many Demons, So little Time 

Chapter 11

Dean touched his coat pocket, just to make sure he had gotten out of the voodoo princess's house with the 'kick the demon's ass and send it back to hell' spell intact. He wasn't sure if he would use it, hell, he wanted to, wanted to be done with the deal, done with worrying about 94 days and looking forward to the rest of his life.

From his chair, in the corner of the new and improved motel room, he glanced over to Sam, lying on his bed, face ashen, cheeks flushed. This headache had came on quickly, while at the meeting with the 'princess', yeah, he thought, that's a joke, 'princess my ass'. He had given Sam two pain pills and tucked him into bed two hours ago. Sam had been out of it upon leaving voodoo headquarters. Dean had to watch as his stress level increased ten fold, and he curled into himself, headache overtaking him in mere moments.

Right now, Dean didn't know weather to be happy that he had a possible 'out' from the death sentence, or he should go back and kick the princess's ass for what she had said to Sam. He had to admit she was good, she did know about Sam and the demons blood, but telling Sam he was always going to be chased by the evil forever was not what he had needed to hear.

Sam shuttered in his sleep, Dean looked intently at him trying to decide if he was okay or not. When Sam settled back down into the pillow, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He stood up, glanced at the clock, 8:45 p.m., and decided to go to be early, this day had been long. He slipped off his shoes, reached down and pulled the blanket up around Sam, tucking it under his chin and ran his hands through his brother's long locks. "It will be okay Sammy", he whispered. He stumbled over to his own bed and slumped down onto the mattress, clothes still on, thoughts still racing. 'What to do, what to do', his brain not wanting to shutdown. Eventually, sleep overtook him.

Sam didn't know what was causing his head to feel like it was about to burst, spilling out his brains on the 'princess's' couch. He was there to support Dean, to help him because he needed it, but when had the conversation started being about him, demons blood, and powers. It was all too much, his head rocketed to new levels of pain, eyes blurring up, and hands shaking. He vaguely heard his brother speaking about the spell to break the deal, distinctly heard the princess say 'might not work', 'special' and 'still be after him' before the room began to spin, his hands shaking, his body tilting, leaning heavily into Dean.

It was after midnight when Dean heard the first whimpers from his brother. He turned his head and peered over at the form on the other bed, Sam was thrashing under the covers, his head lolling back and forth on the pillow. Dean flung himself quickly over the edge of the mattress, feet hitting the floor with a thud, arms reaching out for Sam.

"Sam, Sammy…..wake up", he grabbed his shoulders and gave him a slight shake.

"No, no, you can't…you can't have my brother", Sam mumbled.

_The crossroad demon stood in front of Sam, yellow eyes glaring into his, evil smile leering across her lips. _

"_Your mine, and thirteen days early, what an idiot", she said her head nodding; her hands reaching out to grab at Dean. _

_Sam pushed Dean behind him, eyes looking intently at the demon. He knew this was bad, calling the crossroad demon early, attempting to change Dean's fate. _

"_Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean…did you think some voodoo princess could get you out of this deal. I am so taking your soul". The demon looked at Sam as her hands grabbed again at Dean._

_Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. Dean swayed into Sam, his breath becoming shallow, the room spinning. _

"_No, no, you can't have him", Sam yanked Dean back away from the demon. _

"_Poor little Sammy, all alone now. I tell you what, I can…unless, unless…well I could make you a good deal. You could have y our brother, I would let him out of the deal, and you can become one of us, a leader for our side". The demon smiled wickedly, hoping Sam would take her up on her offer. _

"_No, no, you bitch, there won't be another deal, NO Sam, NO.", Dean swayed and begin falling to the ground, knees buckling as he felt the life slowly draining from his body. _

_Sam watched as the breath began to leave his brother, Dean's eyes rolling back in his lids. The demon made a low gurgling noise, pleased, she pushed past Sam to grab a hold of his brother. _

Sam continues to thrash around in the bed, breath coming in heavy gasps, suddenly his eyes popped open, in the dim light coming through the window, Dean saw no recognition in his face.

"Shit, is it a vision?", Dean whispered as he continued to hold fast to Sam's shoulders, willing him to wake up, rocking him back in forth in a steady movement.

"Sammy, I gotcha…I gotcha", Soft, comforting words he couldn't comprehend. Sam eyes suddenly seemed to come into focus and he glanced wildly at Dean.

"Dean?", he gasped, his body shaking uncontrollably.

"I gotcha Sammy…Easy, easy".

Sam felt hands pulling him up, a warm presence leaning into him, arms wrapping around him holding him steady. Sam twisting and fighting as his vivid memories of the vision began to fade.

"I...I saw…the cross...ss road demon…we, we did, the spell…it didn't...didn't work…" Sam spoke in a whisper, his voice shaky.

"Shhhh…shhh, just breath, Sammy". Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair as he continued to rock him back and forth on the bed, Sam's tears coming down in streams, breath heaving, his heart hammering hard against Dean's chest.

Dean leaned back on the headboard of the bed, dragging Sammy with him, still locked tightly in his embrace. The moon was casting a white light in the window and across the Sam's face. Sam's tears had stopped, his breathing leveled off, he was slowly gaining control of his senses.

Sam dug his head into the Dean's shoulder, eyes shining, brow scrunched up, and voice whining. "We can't do the spell the voodoo princess gave us…. I saw it, I saw it all happen, it did not end well, please Dean, tell me we won't try it, please…please".

"What did you see?" Dean felt a shudder come off his brother at the words he had just asked.

Sam closed his eyes as Dean pulled him closer, taking his chin in his hands, he spoke in a low, caring tone. "Sam, Sammy…look at me, what did you see in your dream?" Sam opened his bloodshot eyes to look at Dean.

"The crossroad demon, she…she came, the spell wasn't working, and I couldn't stop her … she took you…..". His voice dazed and hitching as tears again reached his red rimmed eyelids. "You died".

Dean closed his eyes, sighing. "Hush, Sammy, it didn't happen, it was just a dream".

"No, no Dean, it was not a dream, it was a vision, a vision….I saw you die. I can't do what you want, we can't take a chance that the spell won't work. She wanted a new….a new deal, she wanted...". Sam's eyes blinked slowly up at Dean, large, round, and innocent. He curled into Dean like he was a small child again, hands weakly clutching and unclenching at Dean's shirt.

'Well, there it is', Dean thought, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. 'Guess that plan is done for'. Dean reached up and settled his right hand on the back of Sam's neck, running his callous fingers through his brother's long locks.

"It's okay, Sammy", he mumbled as he drew his head down to rest on the top of Sammy's, still rocking him, holding him, needing to be there for him.

"Dean?" panic was rising up in Sam's voice, his breath coming in little gasps.

"Whoa, calm down little bro, breath with me". Dean made the effort to make his breaths louder, in and out, in and out.

"I can't loose you, I can't do this…I thought I could, you now, save you…I need you, I can't". Sam whispered out between short heaves of breath.

"I'm here", Dean answered, squeezing the back of Sam's neck again. "I don't plan on going anywhere Sammy, I believe in you". Dean felt confident in those words, so he said it one more time just to make sure Sam heard him. "I believe in you".


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 

Dean raised his head and stared at his watch, it was 5:30 a.m., what the shit was he even going to bed for, he never slept anymore anyway. Glancing around the motel room with his weary eyes, he saw his brother sleeping on the bed next to him, covers pulled up over his chin, long arms lounging over his head. Sam looked exhausted, dark circles lining his eyes. Dean knew that he never slept either, always tossing and turning, thinking and dwelling, laying on the bed till all hours.

Dean shifted on the bed, turning on his side; he watched his brother borrowing deeper down in the bed, his head snuggling into the pillow. He thought about the deal, he was always thinking about the deal; fifty six days and counting. He thought about Sam, about leaving, just going. He knew if he was a good brother, he would just do it, leave, save Sam from the suffering, the turmoil. Sam would be better off without him around, without watching him die. But Dean couldn't imagine leaving Sam alone. Sam had always been his life, his reason for being. Now, with death looming out in front of him, his feelings were intensified, his worry excessive, his fear for his brother engulfing him. What would happen to Sam after, after the crossroad demon came, after the deal? Deans own need to protect and take care of Sam's overshadowed whatever he thought would be best for his brother, it was selfish, and he knew it.

"I am such a selfish jerk", he said to himself as he scrubbed one head across his face and pulled himself up and off the bed, grabbing some clothes from his duffle, he headed for the shower.

Sam awoke to the sound of water running, he looked over at the other bed, not seeing Dean, he heard the shower going full force. He rolled over and stretched his long body, feeling muscles and bones popping, waking up.

The shower turned off and Sam lay on the bed watching for the door to open. He could not imagine his life without his brother around. He vaguely remembered the 2 years at Stanford now, as if it was just a dream. He had wanted so badly then to be on his own, to go to school, away from his father, his brother, their life. But now, now it was all he wanted, the life he had with his brother, the life their father gave them. Dean was all he had left, if the demon took him, he would be all alone. He did not think he could do all alone. Stopping the crossroad demon and the deal played over and over in his mind, all day, everyday. It was all he could think about.

Dean opened the bathroom door, billowy clouds of steam echoing in his wake. He heard his phone ringing and grabbed it as he dumped his dirty clothes in his duffle on the floor.

"Winchester", he said cockily as he glanced over at Sam, who was still lounging on the bed.

"Dean, hey it's Bobby. How you guys doin'?"

"Hey Bobby", Deans eyes darted back across the room to Sam, who was looking at him questioningly.

"Well, what happened with the voodoo priestess, any luck?" Bobby voice was anxious and concerned.

"Nope, total waste of time". Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, putting on his socks and shoes, "Com'on Sammy, get your ass moving, I'm hungry." he whispered with his hand held over the cell phone.

"What….Dean, listen, I got a hunt for ya, if you're game", Bobby touted.

"Yea, yea, we're interested, need to do something to kill some time…I mean, shit, whatever dude". Dean watched as Sam let out a little gasp of air at his choice of words and then pushed himself off his bed and headed toward the bathroom.

"Something is attacking rock climbers up in Echo Lake, Colorado. I think it's a Sisyphus, definitely one of the demons that escaped from hells gate. What I hear, this thing has been seen three times, up on Mount Evans, just before each climber fell to their death. Seems like this bastard doesn't show up till someone is climbing the trails and then appears, summoning a rockslide in its wake. All the deaths were in the same three mile area on the east cliffs. It's never the same exact location, killed six climbers so far. Definitely violating the laws of hospitality here and killing innocents. Tell ya Dean, dam things not typical, that's for sure". Bobby snickered as he waited for Dean to speak.

"Sure, we'll go, give me the details". Dean grabbed a piece of paper for directions and information on the hunt.

The black Impala hummed along Highway 103 toward Echo Lake, Colorado, heading up the scenic bypass, climbing up the hill at a 90 degree angle. The engine sputtered and spat as it struggled to make the angry slop of the road. Sam had rolled down is window and was breathing in the clear, crisp mountain air. The wind was blowing lightly through the wildflowers, the tall grass, and Sam's long bangs, causing them to blow wildly across his face.

"Look…look, Dean, it's a mountain goat", Sam pointed excitedly toward the side of the hill, "Look…"

"Yea, yea, I see it, I see it, calm down; it's just a dam goat". Dean snickered as he glanced at his brother, Sam's eyes wide, lips quirked up in a grin.

The sun was high in the sky as they pulled into the 'Bighorn Lodge'. Dean pulled the car into the almost empty parking lot.

"Look's like business is slow, eh, Sammy". Dean opened the driver's door and stepped out of the car pulling and stretching his angry muscles.

"Get us a room, Sam, I'm beat". Sam stood stiffly, leaning on the passenger door of the car. He glanced at Dean, shrugged, and headed up the steps to the front door. Dean kept vigil outside, leaning against the Impala, taking in the view, the valley, and the winding road they had just ascended.

Sam exited the small lobby, the room key dangling from his hand. He wondered how this place got its name. This was no where near a lodge, he thought, just a bunch of small cabins on the side of a mountain; obviously, someone didn't know what a lodge was when they named this place. He sighed; he couldn't help the slight tugging in his chest as he saw Dean relaxing against the car.

His brother looked worn out, beaten down, and haggard. Sam was glad they had come on this hunt; he hoped it would help Dean to stop thinking about the crossroad demon. Although, he knew Dean would never tell him, he was counting the days till the demon made her appearance, and Sam knew it. He just hoped everything went as he planned. He had kept practicing, moving objects, making waitress's repeat what he said when he ordered, trying to make things happen. It was funny, Dean never even noticed, Sam guessed he was all caught up in his own thoughts, paying little attention to Sam's ever vigilant effort. Sam had a plan; no crossroad bitch was taking his brother away from him, not now, not ever.

After getting settled in their room, the boys decided to grab some quick dinner and make an early night of it. Though neither would admit it, they were beat, brains tired of thinking, dealing with their own analysis of the crossroad demons deal. So, they both pretended to sleep, lying heavily on the beds, finally, sheer exhaustion overtook them.

The impala pulled onto the gravel dirt beside the sign that said 'East Cliffs – 2 Miles'.

"Does that mean we gotta walk two miles to get there?" Dean rolled his eyes and glared at Sam.

"I think so bro". Sam reached and opened the passenger door, pulling himself to his feet, wicked grin flaring across his face.

"Crap, I was hoping we could drive right up there." Dean slammed the driver's door causing a large bang to radiate down through the valley, echoing off the trees.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and headed to get their gear out of the trunk.

"Com'on Dean, you gotta take more than M & M's", Sam tossed a backpack at his brother. "I took the liberty of putting some hiking stuff together in the backpacks, you know, ropes, gloves, water, granola bars, necessities like that". Sam turned away from the car and began walking toward the trail.

"Necessities, my ass, I say M & M's are all I need". Dean heaved the backpack over his shoulder and followed his brother up the path.

The two mile trek toward the cliffs was uneventful. Sam's long legs were taking the gradual slop in stride, little effort in his movements. Dean was huffing and puffing behind him, mumbling something about crap and stupid people liking to hike. Sam snickered to himself; boy his brother sure hated anything involving exercise.

As the brothers approached the top of the path, Sam heard something; he stopped in his tracks and tilted his head.

"Dean, shhh, did you hear that?" Dean continued walking, abruptly bumping straight into Sam.

"Sam, what the ….what, what?" Dean wheezed out between breaths. He put his hand on the tree next to Sam's head, and leaned into it intently.

"Help me". Dean cocked his chin, eyes squinting, looking at Sam.

"Hello", Sam yelled.

"Help me….down here". A voice yelled weakly in the wind.

Sam's feet stepped quickly to the edge of the cliff, looking intently over the edge. Dean hurriedly stepped up, looking around.

"Where are you?" Dean yelled down over the edge into the vast nothingness.

"Here, down here", the low voice said again.

Just then, Sam saw an arm wave just to the left of them about six feet down.

"There, Dean", Sam pointed his finger to the ledge below them, "I see you", he yelled, "Are you okay?"

Dean unzipped his pack, put on his gloves, and began unrolling the rope that Sam had stuffed into it.

"How'd you get down there", Sam yelled.

"I was climbing with my friend….he….he…fell". The voice was shaky and almost too low to hear.

"Okay, its okay", Dean yelled, "I'm coming down to get you".

Dean quickly tied the rope around the closest tree to the ledge and then the other end around himself. Sam reached into his backpack and put on his own gloves, then grabbed the rope to steady it. Dean nodded at Sam and then placed both feet at the top of the ledge; he began to gradually jump down the cliff. Sam held the rope and let the slack out as Dean scaled down the rocks.

"Hey, can you hear me", Sam glanced back down where he had seen the arm before, the person hidden from view by the rocks above them.

"Yea, I ain't goin' anywhere", the voice came back to Sam, a slit cockiness in the tone.

"Okay, my brother is just above you, Dean….Dean, you okay? He is right below you, see that ledge, he's under there". Sam motioned to the rock just below Dean.

Dean's left foot slipped on the dirt and rock as he made his way over to lean down, hands still holding onto the rope. He glanced over to his right and around the large rock jutting out of the cliff, there was a young boy, not sixteen or seventeen lying on the ledge. His hands gripping tightly to a rock, feet firmly propped up against another.

"Hey, my names Dean. What's your name? Dean face quirked up in a small smile.

"Dean, can you get over there". Sam asked inquisitively as he leered down at Dean, still holding the rope, sweat drops forming on his brow.

"Joe…my names Joe, my friend's at the bottom…down there". Joe glanced down the step cliffs to the bushes and trees below, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Sam, I'm okay, you're gonna have to tie off the other rope and drop it down to me. It's too close down here, there's no where for me to undo myself and tie the rope around Joe". Dean peered back up to the top of the ledge and Sam.

"Okay, Dean, hang on a minute". Dean felt the slack on the rope give way as Sam relinquished his hold, Dean slid about half a foot further down, so now he could see Joe slightly above him to the right, his face pale white, a cut on his temple, clothes dirty and rumpled up.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Dean braced himself hands gripping the rope tightly, feet angled at just the right angle to hold him steady.

"I…I thin…think so. We…we were climbing down…we saw, we saw something, above us, next thing I knew rocks were reigning down on us, the rope came loose. We were both falling, but I landed here…here on this ledge. Tim fell. Oh God…" Joe breathed in shakily, his body shuddering as he did so.

A rope swung over the ledge and hit Dean in the head.

"Gees Sam, tell a guy when you're gonna do that". Dean reached around and grabbed he rope, throwing it toward Joe.

"Grab the rope". Joe reached out his shaky hand and grabbed a hold of the rope as it swung over toward him.

"Sam, you got it up there?" Dean shifted his weight grimacing as he was growing tired of holding onto the rope, arms pulling, legs quivering.

"I got it, is he tied off?" Sam yelled down to Dean.

Dean looked over at Joe, who had managed to wrap the rope around his waist and tie it off.

"Okay, he's ready. Sam, pull him up".

Sam pulled the rope up with all his strength, the weight of Joe heavy on the other end.

"Slow Sam, wait, let him get his footing". Dean yelled back up at Sam.

Sam stopped tugging on the rope, waiting on Dean's instructions.

"He's ready Sam, pull. I'm climbing back up underneath him". Dean's voice echoed back up the rocky ledge to Sam.

Joe made his gradual ascent up the rocky grade, Sam pulling him. Dean began slowly putting one hand over the other, moving his feet, scaling up the rocks toward the top.

Joe was within Sam's reach, then he thought he heard a noise behind him; hissing, howling, laughing. Sam continued pulling the rope, his neck craning around to see what was making the noise. He reached down blindly to grab at Joes arms as he saw the Sisyphus coming up behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Sam yanked Joe up quickly over the edge with all his strength. He watched the soft, eerie movement of a gray smoky image flowing toward him.

"Dean…" he gasped, as he felt cold icy tendrils pushing him toward the edge of the cliff. Sudden comprehension hit him and he knew he was being pushed over. Just as he felt himself teetering in the balance, warm arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. He fell with a thump on the dirt and grass, lying on top of Joe. The Sisyphus hateful glare leering back at both of them, it turned and disappeared over the cliff's edge.

"Did you see that…?" Joe said in a terrified voice. "That's what pushed Tim and I over the edge, what…is…that"?

Sam rolled off of Joe, lying on his stomach, glaring down over the side of the cliff.

"Dean, Dean", he yelled, eyes frantically watching as the Sisyphus floated and then disappeared past the ledge where Sam could see.

Sam heard the sounds of rocks and debris falling down the slippery slope, and then nothing.

"Oh God…Dean", Sam yelled frantically, pushing up on all fours, body leaning precariously over the edge, peering down the cliff side. Joe quickly righted himself, reached up and grabbed hold of Sam's ankle, holding him at the cliffs edge. The rope Dean had been attached to be now conspicuously missing from the side of the rock.

"DEAN", Sam yelled at the top of his lungs, voice quivering, hands shaking. Seconds passed that seemed to be an eternity. Tears welled up in Sam's eyes, flowing slowly over his eyelids, down his face, falling without a sound over the edge of the cliff.

Joe pulled Sam back toward him.

"Sam, he's gone", Joe whispered. Sam sat back on his butt, arms resting behind him, weight bearing down arms holding his shaky body up. He looked over at Joe, gasped in air, and then pulled himself quickly back toward the edge again, yelling.

"Dean, Dea…..answer me". Joe grabbed a hold of Sam's forearms from behind, making sure he did not fall over the edge. Sam shaking harder and heaving for air as the world around him began to spin.

"Humph"

Sam stopped mid breath, tilting his head at an angle, listening.

"Shhhh", he pushed at Joe, who still had him in a vice grip.

Then Sam heard it, a cough, not a loud one, but a cough.

"Dean" his voice echoed over the cliffs edge.

"Sam…Sammy" came a low voice from below.

The most wonderful voice Sam had ever heard. He quickly shook himself loose from Joe and grabbed at the rope still tied around his waist.

"Dean, I'm coming…Dean, do you hear me?"

"Ye…Yea, I here you, I'm stuck on the same damn ledge Joe was…shit, shit, the rope fell. What the hell Sam, did you get it, the Sisyphus?" Dean's voice bellowed back up at Sam from the vast nothingness over the edge.

"Joe, hold the rope", Sam ordered and thrust the rope in Joe's hands.

"I can't hold any rope; I ain't got my gloves!" Joe spouted off.

Sam quickly took off his own gloves and thrust them at Joe.

"Take these".

Joe clumsily took the gloves from Sam's hands, put them on, and reached to hold the rope as Sam jumped quickly over the edge.

"Whoa…wait…Whoa", Joe hands gripped the rope tightly as Sam quickly pushed himself off the cliff top.

Sam swung over the ledge calling Dean's name as he went. Dean pushed up on the rock he was leaning against, looking toward the sound of Sam's voice. As Dean watched, loose dirt and rock began pelting down on him from Sam's hasty ascent. Suddenly, Sam appeared to the left of Dean, worried eyes scanning him over, checking him for injuries.

"Dean", Sam wheezed out, heart pounding, fingers and hands trembling and tingling.

"I'm okay Sam, just get me off this damn ledge", Dean huffed out and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, but we don't have the other rope….So….I know…I know, I'm gonna swing back and forth and you grab hold of me when I come that way". Sam said as he kicked off to the left with his right foot.

"What…Sammy…wait" Deans eyes widened as Sam swung away from him, out from the ledge in a arch, then thudded into the rock embankment about five feet further away from him. Sam pushed off again and came flying at Dean feet flailing around. Dean quickly reached up with his right hand and grabbed Sammy's foot, holding him as he began to try and swing away from him.

"What the hell you doin' down there?" Joe yelled from above them, "You weight a ton dude, be still would ya?"

"Just hold the freaking rope, I'm getting my brother, we're both gonna have to climb up on this one". Sam glared up at the top of the ledge, and back to his brother.

Dean could see the tear tracks mingled with the dirt still fresh on Sam's face. His eyes glanced up and met Sam's in one brief moment they looked at each other, both knowing what the other was thinking, a silent 'thank you' from Dean, a silent 'I got your back' from Sam.

Dean put his left hand on the rope just above Sam's head and pulled himself bodily up, Sam grasped a cupped hand underneath Dean's foot to give him some leverage, just then noticing the blood that was pooling in his uncovered hand and now running down his arm and up under his sleeve. He grimaced as pain spiked in his hand, but kept it up and steady so Dean could push off, grab the rope, and start climbing up.

Dean continued to put one hand above the other, his feet tangled around the rope, knees sliding up as he went. Sam stood legs bent at the knees, feet steady against the rock cliff, waiting for Dean to make it to the top. Suddenly Dean felt the top of the ledge, and pulled himself over, breathlessly lying on his side, happy to be out of that mess. Then he noticed, Joe still holding tightly to the rope.

"Sammy", he let out yelp, grabbed the rope in front of Joe and began pulling. The rope and Sam quickly came to the top and over the ledge. Sam fell to his knees as he stepped up on the hard ground, letting go of the rope.

"Jesus Sam", Dean dropped the rope and ran to Sam, grabbing both his hands up in his own. Blood was dripping over his fingers and down on the ground below him, skin burned away by the force of the rope sliding through Sam's uncovered hands.

"Kay…I'm okay", Sam whispered. The throbbing in his hands evident by the way his face was scrunched up, mouth in a downward turn.

Dean pushed Sam to the hard ground on his backside, pulling the back of his own shirt, ripping it over his head; he grabbed his own white tee shirt. Ripping the tee shirt into strips, he began wrapping the white cloth around Sam's hands. Sam flinched as the material touched his raw hands and fingers, but he didn't say a word. Dean finished his task, and in one quick motion pulled Sam into a slight hug, then pushed him away quickly, noticing that Joe was watching from his vantage point behind Dean.

"Well, Sammy…I wanted to kill that son of a bitch, not give it a good time". Dean said with a snarky laugh as he stood back up and reached his hand under Sam's shoulder to help him stand. Dean pulled his shirt back on over his head and glanced over at Joe.

"Thanks", Joe nodded at Dean and lowered his eyes the ground. "Thanks for saving me….wish you could have saved Tim too…" his voice droned off into a low whisper as he finished his sentence.

"Me too", Dean said, as Sam shifted on his feet and reached out to lay a comforting hand on Joe's shoulder.

Just as Dean turned to grab his and Sammy's backpacks, a high pitched screech came barreling up over the edge of the cliff behind him. He turned in time to see the Sisyphus misty tendrils grabbing Sam, hoisting him high in the air and launching him head first into a tree some five feet back from the edge. Sam let out a slight yelp as he slid bonelessly down the tree and slumped to the ground. Joe was knocked to the ground as the Sisyphus roared past him.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the incantation charm, he began yelling the words as loudly as he could. Glancing over at Sammy, he frowned, then stared at the gray mist in front of him and continued. Drawing from is own experiences, he knew he had to concentrate on the task at hand. He would worry about Sammy once he had gotten rid of the Sisyphus. Rubbing the charm and chanting the incantation was all he concentrated on until it eclipsed all his other emotions. The words of the incantation flowed smoothly out of his mouth; his body, his mind oblivious to everything around him.

"….and in the realm of the dead, return this force, back to the block of stone from hence he came".

Dean spoke the last verse of the incantation as the wind picked up and the Sisyphus flickered and screeched around him. Dean's eyes darted up and around just as the mist faded into nothing, screaming as it went straight back to hell.

"Sammy?" Dean ran as fast as his legs would carry him to Sam's side. Joe, who had been sitting with his arms covering his head in all the commotion, quickly jumped up and ran to Sam.

"Hey Sammy," Dean bent down on his knees placing both his hands on Sammy's face. He then gently poked and prodded Sam's torso for any injuries returning to his head and neck when he was sure that no other injuries seemed apparent.

"Sammy, can you hear me", Dean whispered as he ran his hands under Sam's head, pulling his hand back when he found it wet with blood, thick behind Sam's left ear.

"Damn", Dean hissed. "Joe, give me your tee shirt". Dean said with authority, causing the teen to quickly pull his shirt off and hand it to Dean.

Dean pulled Sam up and leaned him on his shoulder, his head lulling from side to side, eyes still closed. Dean wiped the side of Sam's head and pushed his long locks aside to see a two inch gash behind his ear, blood flowing freely down the side of Sam's face and neck.

"Sammy? I'm here, wake up Sammy, and open your eyes".

Dean was pleased when his words brought a slight rustle out of Sam, his eyes attempting to pull open.

"Dea..." Sam murmured.

Dean felt Sam's hand slid across and reach for is own. He gently reached and held Sam's hand tightly.

"Right here, Sammy, I'm right here. Can you open your eyes?

Sam head tilted toward Dean's voice and he pulled his lids open to mere slits looking up at Dean.

"That's it little brother, let me see those eyes". Dean lifted Sam's torso with one arm around him and pulled him up to a sitting position, Sam's head lolled to the side as he seemed to slide back into unconsciousness.

"Sam, stay awake", Dean's voice was urgent.

Why was Dean so insistent he stay awake, he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. Yes, sleep was good, Sam thought as he drifted between wakefulness and the darkness around him.

"Sam, you have a concussion...stay awake". Dean gave Sam a little shake and he opened his eyes and gave Dean a confused, dazed expression.

"You're gonna need stitches", Dean informed Sam raising them both up to a standing position.

"Joe, get the other side, he's not gonna stay up for long". Joe stepped up and put his arm around Sam's waist to assist Dean in holding him up. They slowly made the trek back down the trail to the Impala, Sam stumbling and mumbling as they went.

Sam felt a warm rag moving across his forehead, his head felt fuzzy. He smelled the antiseptic smell, and scrunched his nose up. Squinting his eyes open, the bright lights blinding him and causing him to quickly close his lids.

"Sam, you okay", Dean placed his left hand on his brother's shoulder as the right one held firmly to the rag on his forehead.

Sam blinked his eyes, he held one of his gauze covered hands up to shield his face from the light. Dean placed the rag on the table and stepped to the light switch, turning the offending overhead light off. Sam sighed; glad his brother was with him and knew just what to do for him.

"Better?" Dean leaned in to look at Sam's face.

"Um…Yea, thanks. Where am I?" Sam asked in a whispered voice as he pushed himself up on the bed, his head pounding with the movement. He glanced around the room with blurry eyes, noticing he was in a medical environment. "I don't remember anything".

"We were on the cliff and the Sisyphus came back for seconds, remember, he threw you into a tree. You got a concussion, their keeping you overnight for observation." Dean stepped back and pulled the chair next to the bed closer to Sam, launching himself into the seat with a hearty snicker. "We sent it back to hell though", Dean smiled to himself, "Mark that one off the to do list".

"Don't remember that part either". He was so tired; he'd just close his eyes for a minute. "You'll be here when I wake up?" Sam whispered.

"Yes, Sam, I'm not going anywhere."

Sam reached his gauze covered hand up floundering around in the air, Dean knew it was for him, so he reached his own hand over and grabbed Sam's hand, grasping it tightly in his own. He watched as Sam's breath evened out and he fell into sleep.

Dean sat watching his brother sleep, lying still in the hospital bed, pale as the sheets he was covered in. Sudden comprehension of his situation struck him like a blow. He felt anger overtaking him. Anger at the crossroad demon for making him such a crappy deal. He had 51 days left to live; he could hardly breathe when he thought about leaving Sammy alone. The magnitude that the end was coming faster than he could fathom was overwhelming. He wanted to believe that Sam could save him, he did, but he knew it was probably not going to happen. Tears welled up in his eyes as he sat in the dark, staring at his little brother. He knew Sammy would be lost and all alone without him. Pulling his free hand through his hair, he sighed.

"I love you, Sammy", he whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

So many Demons, So little Time

By: supernaturaldh

Chapter 14

Dean glanced over the magazine he was reading to look at his brother. Sam was fully clothed, lying on the hospital bed, his legs crossed at the knees, arms folded, finger tapping on his elbow.

"Gee whiz, where is the doctor. Dean, why do we gotta wait on him anyway? I wanna get outta here". Sam fidgeted in the hospital bed, eyes darting over to the door and back to Dean. Dean continued looking at the magazine.

"Says here Lindsay Lohen's in rehab", Dean shifted in his chair. "Quit fidgeting Sam, the doctor will be in here soon. I just want to make sure your 'big ole' head scan came back okay". Dean snickered to himself as Sam let out an exasperated breath.

Sam ran his hand up over his left ear, the bandage there causing his ear to stick out, he subconciously pushed his hand over his ear forcing it to lie down against the gauze.

"Leave it alone Sam". Dean turned the page and kept reading the magazine.

Finally, the hospital door swung open, making a loud thump as it hit the wall. Well, thank god, Dean thought, he let the magazine go limp in his hand, smiling up at the doctor from his chair.

The old doctor looked way to old to be doing anything, Dean thought, as the doctor stepped toward Sam, sitting his cup of coffee down on the tray by the bed.

"Unum, sorry, it has been crazy today. I just came from emergency surgery. Had to stop and get my coffee fix at the Starbuck's downstairs". Steam rose up from the coffee cup he sat down, scent weaving around Sam's face.

"Chocolate Mocha?" Sam questioned as he licked his lips. The doctor moved quickly over, shinning his pocket light in Sam's eyes. Sam blinked, wide eyed at the doctor.

"Yep, just picked it up, it's way to hot to drink right now. You feeling okay?" the doc asked Sam as he placed the light back in his white coat pocket, hand reaching for his coffee.

"I feel fine, got a little headache, that's all", Sam smirked up at the doctor, long bangs falling in his eyes.

"Okay, you need to take it easy for the next couple of days"

"What about his head scan?" Dean head tilted up quizzically, still holding the magazine in his hand.

"Scan's all clear; you can go soon as I get the paperwork together". The doctor glanced back over to Sam.

"Coffee sure smells good", Sam quirked up a smile at the doctor. Dean returned his glaze back to the magazine.

"Can I have it?" Sam asked almost giddily.

"Sure", the doctor reached the cup out and handed it to Sam.

Dean quickly glanced up from his magazine. What the … he thought, he watched the doctor hand the cup of coffee to Sam.

The doctor walked toward the door, stopping just as he was about to exit, he turned and looked back at Sam, eyes scrunched up as his hand came up to his forehead. His mouth opened to speak, and then, he turned and walked out of the room.

Dean flung the magazine to the floor in one quick movement as he stood up.

"What …was… that…?" a dumbfounded look decorated Dean's face.

"Guess he just decided he didn't want it", Sam's mouth curled up in a grin; flinging his legs over the side of the bed he stood up. Dean noticed him sway, and reached to steady him, hand grabbing Sam's elbow.

"Whoa there bro…take it slow".

Dean's hands gripped the steering wheel of the Impala, fingers tapping to the Metallic song playing in his head. He'd turn on the radio, but he knew it would wake up his brother. Man, he thought, he sure loved this car. The wind whipped in the window; as he tilted his head to feel it glide across his face. The sensation of the breeze causing his skin to tingle, he smiled to himself. He realized now that he never appreciated the simple things before now, before the deal, before his life had bled out in the last 347 days. Now, he noticed everything, the bumps in the road, the color of the sky, the hum of the engine, and his brother's soft breathing in the seat next to him.

They had just finished up a hunt for an ugly poltergeist in Bismarck; they were headed to Bobby's. He had been asking them for months to come, and now, Dean felt was the time. Dean knew it was probably his last chance to see Bobby, and although he was not his Dad, Dean felt he was the closest thing to one that they had now. Dean wanted to go, wanted to get Sammy there, so that when the crossroad demon came for him, Sam would not be alone. Sam would need someone when his soul was taken, when the last breath left his body.

Sam stared out the window of the car as it whizzed down the highway, headed toward Bobby's house, the sun was sitting, the sky a brilliant orange color. It was a perfect sunset, one he should be enjoying, but he couldn't. He really wanted to, but his stomach was tied up in a knot, his chest hurting with each thump of his heart. He was sure Dean could hear it. He glanced over at Dean; he was staring out into the evening, face stoic, hands tightly clasped on the steering wheel. Sam had slept awhile, out of sheer exhaustion, but woke up when Dean stopped for gas somewhere outside of Omaha. The crossroad demon was due to come after Dean in five days. Five days, five freak in' days, Sam thought. Sam slumped forward in the seat, pressing his hand up to his temple as he leaned on the passenger window. He had a plan, a plan he had high hopes of making happen, but now, now that it was getting close, what if he couldn't do it? He shuddered involuntarily and hoped Dean had not noticed. His brother was his whole world; he could not do this without him. He heaved in air, a heavy sigh coming out of his mouth. A hand slipped across the seat and settled on his shoulder, Sam leaned into it.

"Sam", Dean said in a low tone, "you okay?"

"No", Sam stated flatly, raising his eyes to stare up into his brother's eyes, tears brimming just below his lids.

Dean squeezed his shoulder, before guiding his hand back to the steering wheel, eyes staring out into the dark night.

The car cruised into the front of the old junkyard around 11:00 p.m., Bobby quickly opening the front door and welcoming the Winchesters with a wide grin.

"Hey Dean, Sam, been wait' n all year for you two to show up".

Dean smiled and nodded his head at Bobby as he opened the trunk. Sam grabbed his duffle and shuffled up the steps behind Bobby. Dean lagged behind, watching his brother and Bobby as they headed toward the front door and into the house. "God", he thought, this was getting hard.

He took the front steps two at a time and opened the front door, glancing around; he realized that Bobby was standing just inside the entry hall, hugging Sam to his chest. He darted his eyes away, turning his head the other direction as he entered. When Sam saw Dean, he quickly pushed away from Bobby, muttering, "I'm going' to bed" he vanished up the stairs and away from Deans eyes.

"Dean, come have a beer with me", Bobby said as he turned quickly and walked away from Dean. Dean grunted under his breath, dropped his duffle to the floor, and followed Bobby to the kitchen. He pulled a chair out from the table as he took the beer from Bobby's hand. Both of them sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying each others company, enjoying the cold beer.

Bobby finally spoke up, "He's not doing too well, is he?"

"Guess he's doing okay, all considered". Dean took another swig of his beer and glared up at Bobby.

"Dean, I been thinking, when the cross road demon comes, I want to be there. I found an old Gaelic ritual that I think will send her back to hell." Bobby's head nodded slightly in a yes motion.

Dean smiled widely at Bobby. "Sounds good to me", he finished off his beer in one large gulp and stood up.

"I'm hittin' the bed, night Bobby…and Bobby thanks for this and for being here for Sammy".

Bobby stood and placed his hand on Dean's back, giving him a hard pat.

"No problem Dean, no problem at all".

_Dean glared at the crossroad demon standing in front of him. _

"_You are such a bitch", he sneered, and leaned in closer, glaring at her._

"_Whatever you say Dean", she smiled a wicked smile, running her finger up to her lip and pouting. She reached out with both hands grabbing at Dean's arms._

_Dean felt the swoosh as the air left his lungs, his legs falling limply to his knees._

"_Too bad you won't be around anymore to save poor little Sammy", she laughed to Dean, her red eyes boring into his brain._

"_Don't you touch my brother", he yelled as the buzzing in his ears grew louder._

Sam woke from his restless sleep to the sound of his brother moaning. He rose to his feet with one quick motion and took a giant step to Dean's bed.

"Dean", he said as he grabbed his shoulders with both hands. "Dean, wake up".

Dean's eyes fluttered open, sweat glimmering on his forehead, the moonlight casting a low glow across his face.

"What…" he panted for air as he looked up at Sam.

"You were dreaming, it's okay, you're okay", Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, one hand still resting on his brother's side, the other hand fumbling through his hair.

"You want to talk about it?" Sam whispered in the dark.

"No", Dean said harshly and turned in the bed, his back to Sam.

Sam's hand dropped to the mattress. He stood, and walked slowly back to his own bed, pulling the covers up, looking back over to Dean. Sam hated that his brother was so angry, so mad, but he understood it. He stared up at the ceiling, listening, he heard Dean's breathe even out as sleep reclaimed him.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Dean Winchester sighed to himself as he ran his calluses fingers through his hair. Leaning back on the chair, he reached his hand quickly to the table, grabbed the cup of black coffee, drinking it all in one big gulp. The sun began to peer slowly through the faded green curtains, the light gleaming across the dirty linoleum floor of the kitchen. He had been sitting here most of the night, just thinking, pondering, mulling. He glanced down at his watch and back to the window. Today was the last day of his life, the last day to see the sun, to feel its warmth, to be alive, to breath, to be with his brother. He smiled to himself, if the crossroad demon had her way, in 23 hours, 57 minutes, and 20 seconds, he would be a done. He had been counting for the last 356 days; so he knew when his world would be coming to a halt. He also knew he had not slept much in the last couple of days; the deal he had made playing over and over in his mind. He rose slowly and stepped quickly to the coffee pot, pouring himself another cup. Shuffling over to the window, he pulled the curtain aside, holding the coffee as he glanced out at the black Impala, the old junk cars, the rusted parts, and the lazy old dog lying on the top of Bobby's truck. He snickered to himself; he was actually going to miss this place, this room, that stupid lazy ass dog. As he let go of the curtain, he felt eyes peering into his back, he turned his head slightly staring at Sam in the doorway, sun shining across his face, bloodshot wild eyes darting across the room to Dean, chest hitching in large gulps of air, body swaying as if he legs were about to buckle.

Sam Winchester heard his brother tossing and turning in the other bed every night, and this night was no different. He knew his brother had not been sleeping. He knew, because he had not been sleeping either. Each one of them lay still in their beds, minds wondering through their own thoughts. Sam knew the program, and it had not changed. Dean would lie in the bed, tossing and, turning, pretending to go to sleep until he thought Sam was sleeping. Then, he would rise up from the bed, tip toe out of the room, and leave Sam alone with own sleeplessness. He thought each night that he should go to his brother, talk to him, help him deal, he wanted to, but yet, he never moved. His own thoughts engulfed him, drowning him, pulling him down. So night after night, he lay there, frozen, no good to himself and no good to Dean. He knew that today, today was the last day of his brother's life, the clock was ticking off, time was running out. The fact that the demon was now coming sooner, rather than later, sent a shiver down his spin. Suddenly, he was afraid, very afraid. He wondered what the shit he had been thinking. He sat up in the bed, arms weakly holding his body up, sweat breaking out on his forehead, wet bangs sticking to his face. He realized at this very moment, his powers were not reliable; not when his brother's life was at stake. His heart began thumping wildly in his chest. Suddenly, he could not possibly make this all go away; he felt a wave of anxiety overtake him. He wanted his brother …now! He quickly tore the covers off his legs and stood up. Sam's breathe coming in large pants, his ears ringing loudly in his head. His only coherent thought, as he stumbled down the stairs, where is my brother?

Dean immediately recognized the state Sam was in as soon as he turned to look at him. Sam's breathe in gasps, eyes wildly looking around the room.

"Sammy", he took three giant steps and was at his brother's side.

"Sammy, breath, calm down, just breath…." Dean wrapped his arms around his brother and led him bodily to a chair, setting him down, pulling another kitchen chair up to set next to him, to look in his face.

"Dean", Sam's voice was barely above a whisper.

"It's okay Sammy; it's just a panic attack, just breath, in and out, deep breaths".

Dean reached his hands up to clutch Sam's face, left hand holding his chin, right hand pushing his damp bangs out of his face.

Sam's breath slowly began to settle into a normal rhythm, his eyes loosing the wild look he had moments before. He tilted in toward his brother, resting his forehead on Dean's shoulder, Dean moving his arm around his brother, pulling him close.

"Did you have a nightmare", Dean asked comfortingly as he made small circles on the back of his brothers tee shirt.

"No, No, I just….I woke, you weren't there, I was …I was afraid…afraid the demon…." Sam voice trailed off into a silent hitch.

"No, its okay, the bitch ain't come yet, sides, I ain't worried, I got you, and Bobby's got a plan". Dean said confidently.

He glanced down at Sam's face, his own heart breaking, as he saw the silent tears falling down his little brothers cheeks. Dean's own tears rising to his eyelids and trickling down his face.

"I'm scared De…" Sammy was surprised then Dean pulled him into a tight hug and held him there, stroking the back of his neck.

"Me too, Sammy, me too."

Bobby woke up to the sound of laughter coming from his kitchen, the aroma of bacon, eggs, and coffee bringing him quickly to his senses. He hurriedly got dressed, and headed into the kitchen, finding Sam and Dean cooking breakfast. Sam was leaning on the counter next to the stove, nose scrunched up, watching as Dean stood at stove cooking what looked to be two pounds of bacon.

"I bet you don't have one clear artery", Sam said grinning at his brother.

"Oh, but it is so worth it", Dean laughed as he grabbed a piece of the burnt bacon off the paper towel and popped it in his mouth.

"Hey boys", Bobby quipped as he reached for his normal cup and poured himself some coffee.

"Morning Bobby", Sam nodded over at him. Bobby noticed a dark cloud passing momentarily over Sam's face and then disappeared as he looked back to Dean.

After breakfast, the three of them sat at the kitchen table, empty plates and leftovers before them, all three stuffed and happy. Bobby kept pouring more and more coffee, as the morning wore on and they talked, reminisced, and shared memories.

Finally, the conversation turned to the serious topic of the crossroad demon, the deal, and how Bobby thought he could get Dean out of it all.

"I found an old Gaelic ritual that I think will send her back to hell." Bobby's head nodded slightly in a yes motion as he brought the cup of black coffee to his lips. He stood up, and walked from the kitchen to the living room, Sam and Dean quickly followed.

"Here it is", Bobby pulled out a book of Gaelic rituals and turned to the page he was referencing, jamming his forefinger into the page.

"How to send a Crossroad Demon back to Hell", Sam read the title of the page out loud, "Well, that's just original", he snickered.

"Amazing, who would have thought", Dean stifled a laugh under his breath as he looked form Sam to Bobby and back to the book.

"If it's going to work we have to have all the ingredients to do it", Bobby said, "I have been accumulating them since I found this about 3 months back". Bobby produced a brown box and dumped its contents on the coffee table. He reached down and grabbed ingredients as he named them off to Sam and Dean. Bergamot oil, juniper granules, voodoo spell powder, holy water, demons blood, crossroad dirt, and salt. I need a lock of your hair Dean, and ½ a cup of blood from your brother.

"Blood from my brother, what the shit is that for?" Dean asked as he stepped closer to Bobby and stared into his face.

"I don't know Dean, it just says that right here", Bobby pointed to the page again. "A brothers blood, see it, right here in black and white. I ain't making this shit up". Dean leaned over the page and read the words.

_Water and salt, where blood is cast_

_No unknown purpose or evil can last_

_Oil and juniper from this world make_

_A lock of hair from this soul take_

_The blood of this demon will bind this spell_

_And take this evil straight back to hell_

_The blood of the brother will take control_

_And save the live of this stolen soul_

_This deal is broken, this book is closed_

_The soul of this one, no longer chose_

_So end this deal, to be done no more_

_Take this demon back to hell, and close the door._

Dean reluctantly let Bobby take his buck knife to his sandy blond hair, lobbing off a piece of it just above his ear. Bobby then took the same sharp knife and leered uncertainly at Sam, who held his hand up willingly.

"Have at it, Bobby, take whatever you need". Sam's palms were open, fingers angling down toward the knife in Bobby's hand. Bobby made a quick cut to Sam's palm and let the blood flow into the bowl he was holding. Dean watched as his brothers blood dripped into the bowl, and then Bobby mixed all the ingredients together, stirring it with the tip of his finger. Dean glanced at the contents in the bowl, his eyes hopeful that this whole bowl of crap would help him get out of this deal.

Once all the ingredients for the incantation were mixed together, the bowl sat in the middle of the coffee table, waiting for the demon to appear, the incantation spoken. They all three loaded their guns and sat down with their beers to wait for the demon to appear. The time was 7:15 p.m. and they knew she had to appear before midnight.

Dean's eyes were growing heavy as he leaned slightly on the arm of the couch. The T.V. was turned on, the noise of the Tonight Show blaring in the darkness. Bobby was sitting in the chair facing the T.V., beer in one hand; remote in the other, his gun leaned against his knee, bowie knife at the ready. Sam sat next to Dean on the couch, knee touching his brother, his leg bouncing uncontrollably in a nervous fashion.

"Sam, for God's sake, sit still", Dean spoke in a low voice.

"Sorry, how can you two be so damn calm …?" Sam asked in a harsh tone. Bobby glanced over at Dean and winked, Dean's lips quirked up in a grin.

"Cause we got a plan and we will follow it, that demon is going down", Bobby said as he turned the volume down on the T.V., dropping the remote to the coffee table, grabbing up his gun in his free hand he gripped the knife tightly.

They sat in silence, thinking, waiting, listening to the sounds of the night, the T.V. the only light in the room.

Dean glanced at his watch; it was 11:48 p.m. He reached over and laid his hand on Sam's leg, stopping it abruptly from shaking. Sam raised his eyes from the floor to look at his brother, uncertainty radiating from his face. He reached his hand up and put it on top of Dean's, giving his brother's hand a tight squeeze.

Bobby turned his eyes away from the boys, allowing them their moment without his prying eyes. Looking down at his watch, he watched the second hand ticking off the minutes till midnight, the minutes till the demon made an appearance. He gripped his bowie knife in his left hand, knowing that he had to cut the demon, get the blood, mix it in the bowl, and then recite the incantation. Sweat was building up on his neck, and dripping down his back. He heaved in another breath and whispered into the night, "Com'on you bitch".


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The T.V. flickered in the darkness, and then it turned to static. Bobby quickly leaned over and switched on a light, glaring around the room.

"Hello fellas", a voice gurgled from the corner of the room. "So nice of you all to wait up for me".

Sam and Dean quickly stood up, guns pointing at the demon. Bobby lunged for her, knife swinging in an arch straight for her stomach. The demon nodded her head and sent Bobby flying across the room. Sam's mind racing as he watched, he quickly pulled the trigger of his gun, the bullet flying in the air straight through the crossroad demons arm.

"You little bastard", she winched out as the bullet made contact. The next thing he knew, Sam was hit by a flying vase, he fell to his knees as the vase broke against his skull. He dropped his gun and grabbed his head. The room was spinning, and all he could see were the demons red eyes glaring at Dean.

"Hey Dean, I've been waiting for this day all year", she said in a wicked voice, mouth curling up at the corners.

Dean's finger twitched over the trigger of his gun, but before he could apply any force, the gun flew out of his hand and banged up against the far wall next to Bobby. He glared back at the crossroad demon, "You are such a bitch" he yelled.

"Damn it", Bobby screamed as he stood up and made hasty steps across the room to take another stab at the demon.

"Would you just give it a rest", the demon smiled at Bobby as he was once again forced to fly across the room and into the far wall.

Dean heard the demon as she talked to Bobby, but his ears were starting to ring. He looked around to see that Sam was holding his head in his hands and bleeding profusely from a wound. Dean wanted to help him, but his vision was slowly tunneling over, blackness edging in around the corners. He knew this was the end, he had hoped that Bobby could stop this bitch, but he knew now that his time was up. His legs buckled at the knees as he began to fall to the floor.

"Sammy", he whispered as his breath began to become a struggle and his heart thumped hard against his ribcage.

Sam saw Bobby as if in slow motion, running toward the demon, arms flailing around, knife swinging toward her body. He felt the breeze go by him as Bobby flew past and back into the far wall. Through the pounding of his head, his fuzzy vision could see his brother as he panted for air, swaying on his feet, dropping his gun, and falling to his knees, the demon gloating at him.

At that moment, anger rose up in Sam, anger he could not fathom or control. He stood up, his hands coming away from his head, his eyes mere slits as he glowered at the crossroad demon.

"Let go of my brother", his voice rising to a thunderous roar, "NOW".

The crossroad demon merely glanced over at Sam, an evil laugh coming out of her parted lips.

"Get over it", she hissed as she reached for Dean with both hands.

"No, you bitch, you get over it", Sam lowered his head as he felt an electrical surge pulse through his body.

The crossroad demons eyes darted from Sam back to Dean as she took a step back, letting her arms fall to her sides.

"What is going on here?" her voice quivering.

"I said for you to let go of my brother, and I meant it, YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM", Sam reached his hand toward Dean and pulled him back away from the demons grasp.

"You can't control me", the demon said in a hesitant voice.

Bobby stood up in the corner of the room; eyes widening as he was watching the scene in front of him unfold. Was the crossroad demon arguing with Sam?

"Watch me", Sam fell to his knees as his face scrunched up in a concentrated stare, arms holding his brother to his chest, facing off against the demon.

"You can't have him, the deal is over", Sam said as the demon's eyes grew larger, her hands shaking with anger.

"I can't have him, the deal is over", the crossroad demon hissed out, a surprised look on her face. "What, what did you just make me do?" she leered hatefully over at Sam.

"Just go back to hell", Sam's voice boomed around the room.

The crossroad demon stared at Dean, then glared at Sam, her eyes growing into large red ambers as she stomped her left foot angrily, like a child, and then vanished into a smoky black mist, coiling and curling out through the cracks of the living room window.

The silence in the room was interrupted as the T.V. came back to life, the sounds of a commercial for 'head on…apply directly to the forehead', echoed around the room. Bobby took the room in quick steps as he grabbed a hold of Dean and laid him to the carpet. Sam's eyes fluttered and then closed as he slumped to the floor before Bobby could catch him.

Bobby pressed two fingers to Dean's neck, feeling a faint pulse, he sighed in relief. He then turned to Sam and saw that he was breathing, but blood was running down the side of his face and pooling on the floor. Thank god, he thought. He ran to the bathroom and grabbed a rag and returned to the floor between the brothers. He ran the rag across Sam's face and tapped lightly on his cheek. .

"Sam, Sam, are you okay" he said in a shaky voice.

Sam's head hurt, he felt totally drained of all energy. He could hear someone saying his name, it wasn't his brother, but the voice he recognized, he just couldn't put a name with it. He slowly opened his eyes to see Bobby staring down at him, damp cloth wiping away what looked like blood. Everything came back to him with a flash of memory.

"Dean", Sam sat up quickly as his head swam and he swayed. Bobby grabbed a hold of his arm to steady him.

"Whoa there Sam, you got a nasty cut on your forehead. Dean's right here". Bobby nodded over to Sam's right. Sam looked over to see Dean still lying on the carpet, eyes closed, very still.

"Dean", Sam said again as he leaned over toward his brother, arms weakly holding up his body.

"I think he's okay Sam, he just hasn't woken up yet. I checked him out, couldn't find anything wrong, I think he's just unconscious".

Sam watched as Dean's chest rose and fell with every breath. His brother wasn't dead, he was alive, and he was still here. Sam's adrenaline began to wane and tears rimmed just on the inside of his eyelids.

"Dean", he whispered as he placed a hand on Dean's cheek.

"Dean", he said again a little louder, desperate for a reaction.

Dean heard the sound of his brother's voice, calling to him from the darkness. He liked the darkness, it was calming. 'Damn it Sammy', he thought to himself, 'Let me sleep'. His brother said his name again, this time he sounded more urgent, and Dean knew he would have to respond.

Sam watched as his brothers eyes began to open groggily. He was never so happy to see those hazel eyes, as he was today.

"Dean, are you okay?" he said as he placed his hand on his brother's chest.

"Yea, why wouldn't I be"? Dean's voice said cockily.

"I thought I had lost you to the crossroad demon", a tear fell from Sam's eye down to Dean's face.

"Damn boy, you scared the crap outta me", Bobby said to Dean as he held the cloth to Sam's head.

At that moment Dean saw Sam more clearly, was he bleeding? Suddenly, big brother mode kicked in and Dean sat up in one quick motion.

"Sam, are you're bleeding", Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and looked intently in his eyes, glancing up to the rag being held in place by Bobby.

"I'm fine Dean, just a scratch", Sam let out a sigh.

"Well, you don't look fine", Dean's hand grabbed the rag from Bobby's hand and he looked at his brother's head.

"I'm fine now, everything is fine", Sam said in a sluggish voice as he tipped into Dean.

Sam woke up to the sound of voices, laughing, definitely beer bottles being thudded together. He looked around the room and found that he was lying on the couch in Bobby's living room. His big brother was sitting at his feet, beer bottle in his hand, laughing. Bobby was sitting in the chair across from him, eyes glimmering, face exuberant, smiling as he tipped his beer bottle to Dean and then chugged it.

"Dean", Sam said as he brought his hand up to his forehead, boy his head sure did hurt. He felt the butterfly band aides all in a neat little row right above his right eyebrow.

"Hey Sammy", Dean quickly grabbed Sam's hand as he was attempting to set up. "I gotcha", Dean smiled at him.

"Hey Dean", Sam leaned his back on the couch, sitting next to his brother.

"You been out awhile, we gotcha up to the couch. You really got to cut down on them salads there Sammy, you weigh a ton". Dean's lips quirked up into his usual grin as Bobby laughed.

"We're celebrating", Bobby nodded at Sam with a large grin on his lips.

"Yep, we sure are, I'm still here, that bitch didn't get me", Dean tilted his beer into Bobby's and the bottles clinked as the beer sloshed around.

"I know", Sam smiled as he closed his eyes, and laid his head back on the couch cushion.

"You did it", Bobby announced, amazement coming through in his statement.

Sam glanced over to Bobby and back to his brother, shoulders coming up in a shrug.

"I knew you could do it Sammy", Dean's eyes lighting up with the statement.

"Well, I wasn't so sure", Sammy said, surprise ringing in his tone.

Dean smiled at Sam and nodded. "Thank you, Sammy". Dean's hand slapped Sammy lightly on the top of his leg and stayed there as he clutched the fabric of his baby brother's jeans in his hand.

Sam shifted his leg into the touch, a warm feeling coming over him at his brother's words. He had done it, he had saved his brother, he had sent the crossroad demon back to hell, and the deal was over.

Sam smiled a large smile at his brother, his eyes shinning with a newfound awareness of just how special his older brother was to him. Sam closed his eyes again as he felt the pull of sleep overcoming him. He kept the smile plastered to his face as he heard his brother and Bobby guzzling more beer, talking, and laughing. He was the most relaxed he had been in a year. He dozed off looking forward to having his brother, his protector, his best friend by his side for a long time.

THE END


	17. Chapter 17

So many demons, So little Time

**Chapter 17**

I wrote this story last year, posted it and moved on. Now with the Season 3 Cliffhanger, I remembered this story and thought it might be appropriate to repost it. Seems like I changed it so that Sam saved Dean with his unknown powers….interesting!

I had not beta, and it was like my 2nd story ever wrote. So, all mistakes are my own.

Thanks for reading this little saga, and please let me know what you think.

Supernaturaldh


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